


It's Always Been You

by strangergrove



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mutual Pining, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:47:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 26,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24670294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangergrove/pseuds/strangergrove
Summary: A collection of my writing from tumblr (strangergrove
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

Steve still couldn't figure out what he was doing there, why he'd decided it was a good idea to come. His fingers twitched in the cool air, hands hanging awkwardly at his sides. He didn't know what to do with them. Put them in his pockets? Make them into fists? Just to be prepared. Just in case.

Billy stepped slowly out of his Camaro. The moonlight lit the top of his head and he looked like a demon wearing a false halo. Steve shifted his weight and finally put his hands on his hips.

"Why'd you drag me out here at this godawful hour, Billy? I'm really not in the mood to fight you again, if that's what this is about."

Billy leaned on the hood of his car and took a long drag. The cigarette's cherry glowed in his face, dancing in his eyes. Steve forgot he wasn't supposed to stare at this beautiful man. He wasn't supposed to be longing to rip Billy's shirt off, to feel Billy's hand around his cock. This was Billy fucking Hargrove and Steve wasn't supposed to like him. He was an asshole.

Except when he wasn't. Like on the days he would stay after practice and help Steve with his footwork, even though he said he only did it to help out the team, because when nobody else was around he was actually nice. He would even hand Steve a compliment here and there. Or when they would run into each other at the arcade, Steve giving Dustin a ride and Billy doing the same for Max. They would hang out for a while and just talk. About nothing. About everything. And Billy would stop being the resident asshole and just be a cute guy.

But Billy was talking now, and Steve was pulled from his thoughts. "This game is getting old, Harrington. I want what's mine."

Steve sighed. "Jesus, man, you're already the new Keg King, the new king of Hawkins. What more do you want from me?"

Billy motioned Steve closer, tossing his cigarette on the ground and grinding it out with his boot. Smoke slipped between his lips as he spoke and Steve found he couldn't take his eyes off those lips.

"Not _from_ you," Billy said, huskily.

Steve furrowed his brows. "What's that even supposed to mean?"

"You, pretty boy. I want you."

\---

_You, pretty boy. I want you._

Steve laughed, but it came out weak and shaky and sounded a lot more like a whimper. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up at odd angles, but he didn't notice. His attention was focused on Billy, on the way he had said those words, the way his hips had twitched forward slightly. That look in his eye.

But this has to be a joke. Billy Hargrove didn't like guys. He didn't like Steve. But there was that damn look, and Billy was biting his lip in a way that made Steve's pants a little too tight.

"I, uh... I don't understand," Steve finally said.

"For once, don't be a fucking idiot, Harrington." Billy grabbed Steve's jacket and pulled him closer. "Just kiss me."

So he did. Steve pressed his lips hard against Billy's. He tasted like mint gum and cigarettes and high, high hopes. Billy's body was warm in the cool night air, sending sparks across Steve's skin every time they touched.

"I thought-" Steve panted.

"Shut up, Bambi."

So he did, because God forbid he fuck this up. He finally knew how Billy's muscles felt beneath his hands, what it was like to tangle Billy's hair between his fingers, what his breath felt like against Steve's neck. He wasn't going to fuck up this time. Not with Billy.

They drown in each other for a long time, sharing breaths. Billy was _his_ king now and he would do anything for him. Goddamn anything if it meant more of this. So Steve savored every second, every heartbeat between them. When Billy finally pulled away, there was a pang in Steve's heart. He wasn't ready for this to be over. What if this was a one time thing and tomorrow Billy wanted to pretend it never happened?

Steve stared into those ocean blue eyes, dark and glistening in they moonlight, searching for something to soothe the panic building in his bones. But the look in Billy's eyes was unreadable now. There was just a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his beautiful mouth.

"So, what do you say, pretty boy? Can I keep you?" Billy asked.

Steve grinned wildly. "God, yes."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A harringroveholidayexchange prompt
> 
> Reindeer

Steve pulled on his new Christmas sweater and went to see what the Hell was making all that racket outside his window. He flung the window open, gasping at the blast of cold air. A flurry of snowflakes settled in his tousled hair as he leaned out.

"Billy?" he hissed, seeing a head of golden curls. "What are - what the fuck is that?"

Billy was guiding something toward the house, something huge. He was too focused on what he was doing to answer Steve, so Steve bounded outside to see for himself.

"You like it?" Billy asked, his eyes as wild as the ocean. He was absolutely beaming.

"What the actual fuck, babe?" Steve whispered, low and terrified.

Billy's smile faltered. "Okay, I know it's not _actually_ a reindeer, but I thought you'd still like it, being a Christmas freak and all. But, I can take it back, I guess..."

"Take it back? Take it back where?!"

Billy shrugged and pointed vaguely into the distance.

"Babe? Where, uh... Where'd you get Rudolph here?"

Billy pet the deer on the head and it nuzzled his neck. Billy grinned at Steve again.

Steve made an exasperated noise. "Are those bells? Did you put jingle bells on a wild deer?"

Billy sighed. "I'm feeling an awful lot of judgement here and not a whole lot of 'Thanks, babe, this is the best Christmas present ever!'"

Steve ran his hands through his hair and damn near pulled some of it out. "What the fuck am I supposed to do with a _wild deer_?"

Both Billy and the deer looked at Steve as if it was perfectly obvious. With a deep sigh, Steve stepped tentatively forward and held up his hand to the deer. It nudged Billy's cheek and looked at Steve's hand.

"It's alright, beautiful. He's harmless," Billy cooed, shooting Steve a sly smirk.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Steve placed his hand on the deer's neck. It blinked at him slowly and shifted on its hooves before leaning into his hand. A sweet, gentle tinkling filled the winter air, dancing across the snowdrifts and off into the woods. It was Christmas morning and the love of Steve's life had just brought him a goddamn 'rein'deer, complete with sparkling garlands and silver jingle bells. This _was_ the best Christmas present ever. Steve laughed breathlessly, all of the love and Christmas cheer pouring from him in waves. But his laugh had spooked the deer and it loped off into the woods, the garlands and bells falling to the ground in a glittering heap.

"Goddamnit, Harrington. I'm not getting you another one," Billy huffed, shooting Steve a glare. Under his breath, he added, "That shit was fucking scary. Thought I was going to die getting a bambi for my Bambi."

But Steve didn't need another reindeer, fake or real. He didn't need any other presents. Everything Steve wanted, everything he needed, was right here, shivering in the snow with his shirt unbuttoned like an idiot.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Prettybratty

Steve sat, tucked away in the corner under an umbrella. The sun had started to set a while ago, but Steve didn't move. He picked absently at the table, gaze slipping in and out of focus. His heart felt like it was clawing its way up his throat. He wanted to puke, to run, to climb out of his skin and just... Stop.

"Pool's closing," someone said behind him.

Steve heard, but it was like a TV playing in another room. Distant, droning noise that he was aware of, but wasn't processing. There were too many things between here and the voice, and Steve didn't have the energy to pick his way through them.

"Hey!" The voice was louder, angrier. "We're - Harrington?" The owner of the voice stepped in front of him.

Steve's gaze slid up the toned thighs, over the short red trunks, across the tanned abs and pecs, until finally landing on the face. Of course it had to be Billy Hargrove.

"Yeah, yeah," Steve mumbled, finally standing. "I was just leaving." He turned to walk away, but Billy's hand shot out and closed around his bicep.

"Hey, what's going on?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

Billy sighed. "You're not fine. You look... Wrong."

Steve grimaced. "Thanks. You look pretty shit yourself."

Billy pushed him back down into his seat. "Talk." When Steve didn't, Billy sat down next to him. "Fine, you don't have to say anything. But I'm not leaving until I know you're okay."

Steve chuckled darkly. "The fuck do you care?"

"Look, I may be an asshole, but I'm not a total piece of shit. Regardless of what everyone might think of me."

Steve looked at him sidelong. He'd never thought Billy gave a shit what people thought of him. He always seemed so detached.

Steve stayed silent for a long time, listening to the water lap against the side of the pool, the crickets chirping in the warm night air. Finally, he looked at Billy, really looked at him. He didn't speak until Billy finally looked back, those wild eyes hidden behind dark lashes.

"Things are... God, things did not turn out how I'd always imagined they would. I was the fucking king. People loved me, until you came along. But I had my girl, so it was okay. Until she told me I was bullshit. And that she didn't love me. But I found my place. Or I thought I had. But now... I don't know. It's like everything is slipping away and I'm too weak to hold on. Too dumb to figure out how to."

Billy nodded and brushed a bit of lint off of Steve's sleeve. It was a small gesture. Meaningless, really. But it was a connection. An anchor to keep him from floating away into this void that was opening up around him.

"I feel like I should have this shit figured out. Because who else is gonna do it for me? I've got no one."

He didn't really have friends. He and Nance were... Weird. The kids were getting older, more independent. His parents were a fucking joke. He could disappear off the face of the earth and his mom wouldn't even notice. His dad only would because then who would he cut down to make himself look taller? God, Billy wouldn't understand. He would ridicule Steve for bowing down before his father, for taking all of his shit.

The void was expanding and the anchor tying him down was splintering. He was unraveling. Right here in front of Billy fucking Hargrove. No, this was not okay. This could not happen. Not here. Not with him.

"Hey," Billy said, so softly it made Steve's heart ache.

Steve looked down, because his eyes were starting to burn, because Billy was looking right at him. He bit his lip, shutting his eyes tight. Fingers touched his chin, lifting his face.

He opened his eyes, slowly, as though moving too quickly would shatter the dam inside of him. There was a strange tingle where Billy's fingers were still touching his skin, like the static charge before a storm. Steve could feel that anchor mending, strengthening.

Steve opened his mouth to say something, anything, but Billy pulled him to his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around Steve. He didn't know what to do. Everything he knew about Billy told him this was not a thing that could happen. Billy didn't comfort people. He hurt them. And yet...

Here he was, closing that void, that gaping nothingness that had been chasing Steve for so long. Out of everyone in the world, Billy Hargrove was there for him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A harringroveholidayexchange prompt
> 
> Christmas Lights

Billy stopped, hovering in the doorway, frigid air rushing past him and into the house. All the lights were off, but a sea of stars swam before him. Steve must have spent hours hanging all of these string lights. There were hundreds, maybe thousands, of little bulbs hanging throughout the house, their lights ebbing and twinkling.

Billy set down the stack of presents in his hands and slipped off his shoes and jacket before wandering the halls. It was so quiet. He tread lightly, not knowing exactly why, just knowing it felt right. Every now and then he would tap a bulb with his finger and watch the lights sway. It was mesmerizing.

Upstairs, he found Steve curled up in his bed, a curtain of lights surrounding him. His chest rose and fell slowly, accompanied with the cutest snoring Billy had ever heard in his life. Billy slipped slowly onto the bed, being careful not to wake sleeping beauty.

They were supposed to be spending the night celebrating their own Christmas, exchanging gifts and watching corny Christmas movies while sipping hot chocolate. Steve must have been exhausted to fall asleep before Billy arrived. He had been looking forward to this night all week. But this was perfect, too.

He pressed himself against Steve's back and draped an arm over his waist. Steve was warm and smelled like peppermint, like candy canes. Billy kissed his cheek softly.

"Thank you for this," he whispered into Steve's ear. "It's beautiful. I love it. I love you."


	5. Chapter 5

"Steve!" came Billy's voice from downstairs. "Swear to fucking God!" His voice, now angrier and louder, was accompanied by the pounding of feet on stairs.

Steve panicked. He knew what this was about, but Billy didn't need to know he knew. He could just play dumb. Billy would believe that, right? Oh God, what did that say about Steve?

With only moments before Billy's hulking form burst into the room, Steve flopped down on his bed and grabbed the closest thing to protect himself with. A teddy bear. A goddamn teddy bear. But this could work. Maybe it was safer to play cute.

"Hey babe," he squeaked as Billy barged through the bedroom door.

"You little shit," Billy growled.

"What's wrong, baby? What happened?" Steve asked, but Billy only glared at him. "Am I in trouble for something?" Steve said in a cutesy voice.

"The fuck do you think?" Billy asked. He was radiating fury.

Steve hid behind his teddy bear. "I think you came up here to tell me I'm cute and that you love me." He peeked up at Billy from around the bear's head.

"You let the kids ride in my car? Are you fucking serious? I told you not to let those monsters in my baby. They spilled ice cream everywhere. Fucking EVERYWHERE, Steve!"

Steve gasped dramatically and hid behind the teddy bear again. "I would never!" But he had. The kids loved Billy's Camaro, thought it was the coolest car they'd ever seen. So when they begged Steve to give them a ride around the block, he caved. And when they begged him to stop and get Scoops ice cream, he caved. He could never say no to his children. Steve didn't see how it happened, but one second everything was fine and the next, there was ice cream everywhere. He spent the rest of the night trying to clean it up.

"Steve, this is a serious conversation," Billy said, sternly.

"I'm being serious," Steve whined.

"Then give me the bear."

"What? No." Steve held it tighter.

"Give. Me. The bear, _Steven._ "

"Never!"

Billy straight up tackled Steve on the bed, wrestling for the teddy bear. They rolled around, getting tangled up in each other, in the blankets. Steve almost fell off the bed at one point. He was pretty sure he also bit Billy, though he wasn't quite sure where.

"Fuck!" Billy grunted, finally prying the bear from Steve's hands.

"Teddy!" Steve cried.

"No more Teddy, you little brat." Billy pointed at him angrily, though the effect was diminished by the fact that he was doing it with the stuffed animal.

Steve pouted and sulked and gave Billy his infamous doe eyes. Billy glowered in return, trying not to look at Steve's big eyes.

"You are insufferable," Billy said at last and stormed out of the room.

A minute later he stormed back in, threw the teddy bear at Steve's face, where it bounced off harmlessly and landed in Steve's hands. Billy grumbled, "God, you're lucky you're cute. I can't stay mad at that face."

"So you forgive me?" Steve asked, bopping Billy on the nose with the bear.

"I'll think about it."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A harringroveholidayexchange prompt
> 
> Tinsel

Steve had expected Billy to say 'no,' to scoff and tease him and yell. But he hadn't. He'd said 'yes' and sat down in front of Steve, sucking on a candy cane and reading his book.

Steve brushed Billy's beautiful curls, taking a moment to play with them before he got down to business. He pulled Billy's hair back, leaving that one signature curl dangling in his face, and began to braid. Every few steps he would add a couple pieces of golden tinsel.

Steve hummed as he worked, splicing together his favourite Christmas songs. Billy hated Christmas songs, but he put up with them because he knew how passionately Steve loved them.

Steve stopped for a moment, hands full of blonde hair and golden tinsel, admiring his boyfriend. Billy looked so soft and sweet, sitting there hunched over with his nose in his book.

"Hm?" Billy said, half closing his book. "Something wrong, Stevie? Why'd you stop?"

Steve smiled to himself. "No, nothing's wrong. Everything's perfect. Just like this." He kissed the top of Billy's head, lingering a moment with his lips pressed to blonde curls. He could die right then and it would be okay. No regrets. Nothing left unfinished.

"I love you, babe," Steve whispered against Billy's head. "So goddamn much."

When Steve finished braiding and decorating Billy's hair, he beckoned the boy to the mirror to have a look.

"Not bad, babe. Not bad at all," Billy said, planting a kiss on Steve's cheek.

Not bad? Billy looked like a goddamn Viking goddess with that hair. To be honest, Steve was a bit jealous. But he was never very good at braiding his own hair, and Billy couldn't braid hair to save his life, so...

They bounded downstairs and finished setting up for the Christmas party. The light kept glinting off the tinsel in Billy's hair, lighting it golden and magnificent. It looked like he was dripping ichor.

When the bell rang, Billy shuffled off to answer the door. It was Max and El, bundled up in the ugly sweaters Steve had gotten them.

Max's eyes went wide when she saw Billy's hair. They stood there in the doorway, letting all the warm air out into the unforgiving night, and stared at each other. At last, Max's face split into a huge grin.

"Oh my god, Billy, your hair is amazing. Is that tinsel? Steve, did you do that? Can you do mine, too?"

"And me!" El piped up.

Steve felt his cheeks flush with pride.


	7. Chapter 7

Steve leaned on the Camaro's hood and lit up a smoke, chitchatting with Nancy and Jonathan while waiting for Billy to join them. The sun danced down upon them and Steve soaked it in. His spirits were high, riding on the trail of a great day. Though, it was mostly from English class that day. Billy had written him something lovely.

Billy came stomping up to them, huffing and grumbling to himself. Something must have happened to put him in such a mood. He pushed himself off the hood and stuck out his arms to embrace Billy.

"Can I speak to you, Harrington? In private?" Billy grunted.

Still giddy from the last few hours, Steve looked over at Nancy and Jonathan. "Ooo, someone's in trouble!" he said in a sing-song voice.

They looked back at him with grave expressions. Steve glanced at Billy, who was damn near fuming. Oh God, what did he do this time?

"Yeah, it's me," Steve said, defeated. "I don't know why I did that."

He and Billy climbed into the Camaro for some privacy. As soon as the doors were closed, Billy turned to him, eyes wide.

"What the fuck did you say to Tommy?"

Steve wracked his brain to try and remember when he'd spoken to Tommy. "You mean during English class?" Billy glared at him until Steve continued. "He was complaining about not understanding im- abnic - ambic penta-"

"Iambic pentameter," Billy cut in.

"Yeah, that. So I told him to ask you, cause you're like... A professional at this poetry shit. Like, you're really fucking good, man."

Billy pulled the cigarette from Steve's mouth and took a drag. "You ever think that, I don't know, I don't _want_ people to know I write poetry?"

Steve shrugged. "But it's really beautiful. I was complimenting you."

"So you told Tommy, of all people."

Steve sighed. "So what?"

"Poetry's lame."

"It's not lame. Stop being a brat!"

Billy whipped his head toward Steve. "Me? _I'm_ being a brat?"

"Yeah," Steve said and shoved Billy's shoulder. "You are."

Billy shoved him back. Steve did it again. Again, Billy returned the gesture, until they were having a cat fight in the front of Billy's car, shoving and slapping at each other, but not actually accomplishing anything.

Outside, Nancy gave Jonathan a look. "Should we just... Go?"

Jonathan nodded. "That's probably for the best."


	8. Chapter 8

The music drifting from the car radio cut out in the middle of a song as Steve fiddled with the nob. Billy slapped his hand away and changed the radio station back to what he had it on.

"Oh my god, Harrington. Stop changing the station!" Billy growled. This was the fifth time he had to yell at Steve.

"Ugh," Steve whined. "Your music is boring. It's all 'BLAH BLAH BLAH! AAAAAGGGHHHHH!'" He waved his arms around like a crazy person, almost dropping the ice cream come he was holding, and made the most horrifying faces in the process.

Billy looked over at him, wide-eyed. "My music is boring? Have you heard what you listen too?"

Steve pouted out his bottom lip and picked at his ice cream. "Aw, come on! Goddamnit!"

"What? What's wrong?" Billy was alert, ready to fight whatever had upset his sweet boy.

"They forgot my fucking sprinkles."

Billy stared ahead, out the windshield, as if Steve wasn't even there. Slowly, dangerously quietly, he said, "Steve... 'They' who? You do know you're the one who made that ice cream cone, right?"

Steve huffed and glared at Billy. "I'm not an idiot, Bills. You turd." He said this last part under his breath. "Can we go back?"

"No."

"Please! Billy, baby. C'mon. It's my sprinkles. You know I need my sprinkles."

"I'm not driving ten minutes back to the mall so you can get _sprinkles_!" Billy's knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

Steve slumped down in his seat and rolled down the window. He tipped his cone out the window and watched, defeated, as it dropped out of view.

"Are- Are you serious? You know what? Fine." Billy slowed down and pulled over on the shoulder. Without another word, he got out of the car and locked Steve inside.

"What the Hell, babe?" Steve yelled from inside the car.

"You wanna act like a child, I'm gonna treat you like a child," Billy yelled back. "You're in timeout."

A long moment passed, filled with the sound of birds and bugs. The wind whipped at Billy's hair, blowing curls in his eyes. He looked off into the distance, counting in his head how long it took for Steve to start complaining.

"Hang on! Isn't it illegal to leave a child in a car alone?" Steve yelled, leaning forward to knock on the windshield. Good god, that boy never stopped.

"So you're admitting you're a child?"

"No... It was just a question."

They sat in silence again for several more minutes. Finally, Steve piped up again.

"C'mon, Billy. Baby. Please. Babe, please! C'mon! I'll be good. I promise. Baaaaaaaaabe. Babe. Ugh!" He knocked vigorously on the windshield. "I'm sorry! Love me! Looove meeee."

Finally caving, Billy got back in the car.

"Fucking sprinkles," was all he said.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A harringroveholidayexchange prompt
> 
> Christmas Cards

The music drifting from the car radio cut out in the middle of a song as Steve fiddled with the nob. Billy slapped his hand away and changed the radio station back to what he had it on.

"Oh my god, Harrington. Stop changing the station!" Billy growled. This was the fifth time he had to yell at Steve.

"Ugh," Steve whined. "Your music is boring. It's all 'BLAH BLAH BLAH! AAAAAGGGHHHHH!'" He waved his arms around like a crazy person, almost dropping the ice cream come he was holding, and made the most horrifying faces in the process.

Billy looked over at him, wide-eyed. "My music is boring? Have you heard what you listen too?"

Steve pouted out his bottom lip and picked at his ice cream. "Aw, come on! Goddamnit!"

"What? What's wrong?" Billy was alert, ready to fight whatever had upset his sweet boy.

"They forgot my fucking sprinkles."

Billy stared ahead, out the windshield, as if Steve wasn't even there. Slowly, dangerously quietly, he said, "Steve... 'They' who? You do know you're the one who made that ice cream cone, right?"

Steve huffed and glared at Billy. "I'm not an idiot, Bills. You turd." He said this last part under his breath. "Can we go back?"

"No."

"Please! Billy, baby. C'mon. It's my sprinkles. You know I need my sprinkles."

"I'm not driving ten minutes back to the mall so you can get _sprinkles_!" Billy's knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

Steve slumped down in his seat and rolled down the window. He tipped his cone out the window and watched, defeated, as it dropped out of view.

"Are- Are you serious? You know what? Fine." Billy slowed down and pulled over on the shoulder. Without another word, he got out of the car and locked Steve inside.

"What the Hell, babe?" Steve yelled from inside the car.

"You wanna act like a child, I'm gonna treat you like a child," Billy yelled back. "You're in timeout."

A long moment passed, filled with the sound of birds and bugs. The wind whipped at Billy's hair, blowing curls in his eyes. He looked off into the distance, counting in his head how long it took for Steve to start complaining.

"Hang on! Isn't it illegal to leave a child in a car alone?" Steve yelled, leaning forward to knock on the windshield. Good god, that boy never stopped.

"So you're admitting you're a child?"

"No... It was just a question."

They sat in silence again for several more minutes. Finally, Steve piped up again.

"C'mon, Billy. Baby. Please. Babe, please! C'mon! I'll be good. I promise. Baaaaaaaaabe. Babe. Ugh!" He knocked vigorously on the windshield. "I'm sorry! Love me! Looove meeee."

Finally caving, Billy got back in the car.

"Fucking sprinkles," was all he said.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A harringroveholidayexchange prompt
> 
> Blizzard

"Billy, just pull over," Steve begged.

"No, we're almost there," Billy grumbled.

"It's twenty minutes away. Please, babe. We're not gonna make it." Steve placed his hand on Billy's. His skin was cold. Everything was cold. "C'mon. The blizzard is only getting worse."

At last, Billy sighed and pulled onto the shoulder. Outside the Camaro, the air was thick with snow. It swirled around the car, obscuring everything. The world was just a white canvas, save for the Camaro and Billy and Steve.

"Thank you," Steve breathed, relieved. "We should probably turn the car off. Save the gas. It's gonna get cold." He looked at Billy in his leather jacket and unbuttoned shirt.

"I'll be fine, princess."

But within minutes he was climbing into the back seat and pulling Steve into his lap. They curled up under the blankets Steve had insisted on bringing, and Billy was glad he had caved and taken them with.

The temperature inside the car was dropping rapidly, nipping at their faces. But the places where their bodies touched were warm and comforting.

Billy glanced out the window and frowned. "We're probably gonna miss the party," he said, nuzzling his face into Steve's hair. "I'm sorry. I know how much you were looking forward to seeing the kids. And drinking hot chocolate. And singing those godawful Christmas songs. And showing off that disgustingly hideous sweater. And-"

"Yeah," Steve sighed. He sounded simultaneously disappointed and content. "But all I need for Christmas is you."

"God, you're corny." Billy laughed and wrapped his arms tightly around Steve.

They laid there for a long time, holding each other and shivering against the cold. The quiet rested heavily upon them, lulling them halfway to sleep. But Billy didn't want to spend this time sleeping. He wanted to spend it with the most amazing person he had ever met, the love of his life.

"Here." He pulled a candy cane from his jacket pocket, unwrapped it, and slipped it between Steve's lips. "Merry Christmas, baby. Sing me one of those awful songs."


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A harringroveholidayexchange prompt
> 
> Wrapping Paper

Billy sat half asleep, head resting against the car window, messy hair falling in his eyes. He was jetlagged and in desperate need of his Bambi.

"So why didn't my princess come to pick me up from the airport?"

Max gave him a guilty look. "Well, he doesn't know your flight got moved up. He still thinks you're flying in tonight, after the party."

"What the Hell, Max?" He glared at her sidelong. He should have been angrier, but he was just too tired to fight.

Max sighed and ran a hand through her fiery hair. "Listen, I have a plan. It'll be cute. I promise." Billy just sighed and rested his head back on the window.

They arrived at Max and El's apartment not long after. It was decorated with all manner of Christmas lights and garlands. A massive tree sat in the corner, drowning in presents and dripping with fancy ornaments.

Eleven ran to embrace Billy the moment he stepped through the door. He hugged her back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"How was the trip?" she asked. "Everyone missed you."

Billy shrugged. "I'll tell you about it some other time. And I missed you guys too. Even you, shitbird," he shot at Max, who was pulling food from the oven. She smiled and flipped him off.

"So, Steve thinks he'll be coming here to hang out for an hour or two before going to pick you up at the airport. Buuut..." Max trailed off.

El grabbed an armful of wrapping paper rolls. "We'll have a surprise for him." A huge smile spread across her face as she spoke.

Billy groaned. "Please tell me you're not gonna do what I think you're gonna do."

"Oh yeah," Max said.

Steve strolled into the apartment, arms full of presents, and a smile plastered on his face. But it was obvious he was anxious and pining for Billy. He set the presents down and gave everyone a round of hugs. After dinner, Steve was getting ready to head to the airport. He wanted to get there early, in case the plane was ahead of schedule.

"Hang on," Max said. "Open your presents first."

"Max, I gotta go pick up Billy."

"Okay, okay. Just this one, though. Please?"

Steve sighed and sat back down. Max and Eleven rolled something into the living room. It was large and oddly shaped, covered in at least four different kinds of wrapping paper, and looked let it was giving the girls a Hell of a time.

"What in God's name..." Steve said, bending over the gift.

He poked at it and an odd nose emenated from beneath the wrappings. Steve's eyes went wide and he began tearing at the wrapping paper as if he was a child on Christmas morning.

"Baby?" he cried when he saw Billy's pendant glinting beneath the paper. He ripped the rest off and fell on top of Billy, half laughing, half sobbing.

Billy hushed him. "It's alright, Bambi. I'm here. Jesus, it's only been a week." But the tears in his eyes betrayed his teasing tone.

"This is the best Christmas present ever. Thank you, guys," Steve sobbed, nuzzling his face into Billy's neck.

Billy held him, wrapping paper still taped to his face and arms, and planted a thousand kisses on Steve's face. "Merry Christmas."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A harringroveholidayexchangeprompt
> 
> Star

It had been an accident. The kids were over for a few hours, playing games and rough housing. One of them, probably Mike based on the guilty look on his face, tripped and fell into the Christmas tree. A few ornaments fell off and shattered, but Steve didn't care about that. What he cared about was the star on top that toppled to the ground and splintered into a thousand tiny pieces.

There was nothing special about it, really. And it certainly didn't hold any special childhood memories. It's just that the star had always been his favourite part of a Christmas tree. It's that he and Billy had gone and picked it out together. It's that it was their first Christmas in their new place, their first Christmas tree, their first star.

All of the kids apologized profusely. Steve just smiled and hugged them all and said it wasn't a big deal. But Billy knew better. He knew Steve was hurt and disappointed and too stubborn to admit it. He didn't want the kids to feel bad over "some stupid star."

So when Steve realized they were out of eggnog, Billy jumped on the chance to drive to town. He would find Steve a damn star before Christmas dinner if it was the last thing he did.

He was slick about the whole business, climbing up and putting the star on the tree while Steve was preoccupied. People were showing up every few minutes and the brunette was running around like crazy. So it wasn't until someone said something that Steve noticed Billy had replaced the star.

"That looks just like the one they have on the tree in the town square," Joyce said. "I love it so much. Where did you get it?"

"Oh," Steve said, smiling. "Ours broke this morning. Billy must have gone and bought a new one while he was getting the eggnog. Where _did_ you get it? I never saw this one while we were shopping."

Billy chuckled awkwardly and went to busy himself with something.

"Billy, you didn't..." Steve said, quietly.

Hopper watched Billy closely. "If I were to drive into town, would that tree still have a star on it?" he asked.

"If you wait until the morning, yeah."

"Hargrove-" Hopper started.

But Joyce cut him off. "Oh, c'mon Hop. It's Christmas."

Hopper sighed. "Fine, but this better not come a regular thing. And you're putting it back _tonight_. You hear me?"

Billy nodded, but he knew this was just the start of a new tradition. And it was.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A harringroveholidayexchange prompt
> 
> Bah-Humbug

Billy never much enjoyed Christmas, at least not since his mom left. It all felt too fake to him. Nobody's family was that happy. At least, he never used to think so.

The thing was, Neil, on the occasion he actually got Billy something for Christmas, gave the boy something grossly practical. It was usually something a boy of his age would never use. And until Susan and Max came along, they really didn't celebrate Christmas.

Steve noticed Billy's disinterest in the holiday the first year Billy was in Hawkins. At first, Steve thought he was just trying to be a badass, or maybe just a pain in the ass, by hating on Christmas. Because honestly, he seemed to hate everything about it. The songs. The sweaters. The snow. The food. The get-togethers. Everything.

Steve didn't realize exactly why this holiday rubbed Billy the wrong way until Max made a comment along the lines of how Christmas only ever reminded Billy of how shitty his life was. So, despite Billy's absolutely dreadful attitude approaching the holidays, Steve was determined to make this Christmas different for him.

It started with a small get-together with him, Nancy, and Jonathan. The four of them went out for a small dinner, which almost didn't happen because Billy kept refusing to go. Max must have talked him into it, because he eventually said yes. It went better than Steve had expected. After half an hour of Billy silently staring out the window, Jonathan got him to open up by discussing music they both enjoyed. The conversation kept evolving from there and eventually Billy was telling stories of his life in California.

Steve's next plan was to get Billy a heartfelt gift. Something that would start to make up for all the shit presents he's ever gotten. The problem was, he still didn't really know Billy that well. Steve went to Max for help and was given a list of things Billy loves but refuses to admit to anyone. Steve got him some Stephen King books. Some Bukowski. Charlotte Brontë. Max said Billy went red in the face when he opened the gifts, then stormed off to his room. But she slipped them into his room later that night and put the books on his bed. She swore to Steve that Billy was up reading until morning.

The last part of Steve's plan was to drag him to a Christmas party at the Byers. He refused, of course, but was still forced to give Max a ride. That's when Steve ambushed him and dragged him inside. Billy sulked for a while before Hopper introduced himself and gave him a drink. Billy unwound, finally starting to let go of all the pain he'd been carrying around for the holiday. He enjoyed himself. He started playing games with the kids, cracking jokes with Hopper, helping Joyce with dinner. Billy stopped being the Grinch he had been for so long and started being a regular teenager again.

That's when Steve finally kissed him. Long and hard and full of everything Steve wanted for Billy. Peace and love and happiness.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last harringroveholidayexchange prompt
> 
> Snowman

God, it was so fucking cold. Billy's bones ached, like the frost had set into them, cold and creeping. His breath ran trails up to the stars and he wondered if Harrington was still awake. What was it, 3 in the morning?

Billy tugged on his gloves as he trudged through the snow. He hadn't needed these in California. Didn't even own a pair. But God, it was so cold, and he wasn't sure he was prepared to lose fingers over this shit.

He considered turning back. His Camaro was only a few minutes away, tucked away on the side of the road, out of sight. It was probably still warm. But no, he had to do this. He wanted to do this.

The house was dark when it finally lazed into view. He wondered for a moment if anyone was even home, until the soft thudding of music drifted to him across the frigid air. It was almost lost beneath the crunching of snow beneath Billy's boots. As he rounded the side of the house, he saw light spilling across the snow from one of the upper story windows. The music was louder here, too.

The snow in the back yard was pristine, a glistening blanket stretching back into the woods. A shadow crossed the span of light in front of him and he looked up. Harrington stood with his back pressed against the window, his hands running restlessly through his hair. His shoulders drooped, like the silence and darkness outside of his room were trying to drag him down.

Billy grabbed a handful of snow and packed it into a neat little ball. Light glittered off it as it sailed from his hand and up toward the window. Harrington nearly toppled over in surprise when the snowball hit with a loud thud. He looked out across the dark yard, confusion crumpling his soft features. When his eyes finally landed on the blonde below his window, he stilled. Billy could almost see the rhythm of his heartbeat fluttering in his neck.

Harrington was bundled up and in the backyard within minutes. "The Hell are you doing here?" he asked.

"I needed a partner," Billy said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Harrington's eyes, glowing in the light still pouring from his bedroom window, widened in expectation. He sighed. "Fine. For what?"

Billy squatted down and began scooping snow together. "For building a snowman." When Harrington didn't reply, Billy looked up. He was greeted with a flat stare, the boy either bored or disbelieving. "Aren't you going to help?" Billy asked.

Harrington laughed and put his hands on his hips. "You came out here at God knows what hour, throwing snowballs at my bedroom window, so I would help you build a snowman? Seriously?"

Billy shrugged. "Have something more important to do?"

He didn't. Of course he didn't. It was Christmas and his parents weren't even home. He was the only spark in the dark void of the Harrington household and if he didn't find something that could catch fire, that would be it. Snuffed out like his parents, left to drift endlessly in nothingness.

Billy had never known that dark chill. He'd only ever known fire, biting and licking at him. He was so afraid he would ignite, could feel the burn beneath his skin. He was gasoline. Turpentine. Kerosene. One small spark and he would be engulfed in the insatiable blaze.

Harrington cocked his head, brown eyes scanning Billy's ocean ones, as if he could see images burned into the inside of Billy's skull, as if he wanted to do something about it.

"Help me or go back inside to your shitty music," Billy grumbled.

They worked in silence, piling snow together until they could roll it. Their shoulders bumped together as they rolled the ball across the yard. Neither of them said anything about it, but neither did anything to avoid it. Their knees knocked together as they knelt in the snow. Their hands brushed each other as they chipped away at the lumps and smoothed the spheres.

Harrington found broken branches to use as arms. Billy pulled an old sheer scarf from his pocket and draped it around the snowman's neck. It had belonged to his mother.

"I think we have carrots in the house," Harrington offered. "You know, for the nose."

"And coal for the eyes?"

"I don't even know where we would keep that."

Billy laughed. "You telling me a little shit like you didn't get coal from Santa?"

Harrington shot him an unimpressed look. "Ha. Ha. Now come on, let's finish his stupid face."

The carrots in the fridge had long since met their expiration date, and neither of them could find coal anywhere. Instead, they found waffle cones and Oreos and peppermint candies.

"This is gonna be the dumbest looking snowman," Billy said.

"Well I'm sorry I wasn't prepared for building a snowman in the middle of the night with Billy fucking Hargrove. My bad. I'll do better next time." But there was a slight blush to Harrington's cheeks, accompanied by a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"God, it reminds me of you," Billy said, putting the last candy on the snowman and completing its mouth.

Harrington looked at him, brows furrowed. "The fuck's that supposed to mean?"

Billy shrugged and lit a smoke. "I don't know... It's surprisingly cute."

They stood quietly, passing Billy's cigarette between them, staring at the snowman they had spent all morning making. The cold had seeped into their very beings, to the point they were almost numb. Smoke curled from their mouths, drifting endlessly upward and disappearing into the stars. Billy watched Harrington's mouth. Watched the way his cigarette hung from it. The way the boy's lips curled as he exhaled.

Without a word, they trudged inside, stamping out the cigarette on the way. The darkness swallowed them up, their cold hands rushing to meet each other, lips crashing, skin burning.

Harrington had expected to spend Christmas alone again, in a big house filled with the kind of cold that didn't come from winter. Billy had expected to spend Christmas avoiding the searing wildfire that was his father, waiting to finally burst into the same flame he'd spent his life running from. Neither of them had expected Harrington's little spark to catch fire, to bloom into the inferno that was Billy Hargrove, to blossom into a new kind of flame. Neither of them expected Billy's blaze to chase away the crippling chill of the void that was Harrington's fate.


	15. Chapter 15

Snow fell, soft and fluffy, onto the boys' heads. Steve brushed the snow from his hair every few minutes but Billy left his alone. The forest was full with the trilling of birds and the crunching of snow beneath their boots. They each carried a sled on their back, which had grown quite heavy over the long trek.

"I don't know why I agreed to this," Steve huffed, nearly out of breath. "This is the stupidest idea-"

"Ah, shut up. Can't back out of the bet now." Billy looked back at Steve and smirked. "You're cute when you're irritated, you know that?"

Steve sneered at the blonde. "I'm gonna kick your ass. And then I'm gonna do a million donuts in your stupid car. And there won't be anything you can do about it."

Billy groaned. "At least call them shitties. Donuts is just... Sad."

"What?" Steve stopped, brow furrowed.

"It's called whipping a shitty, Steve. Not a fucking donut. You gonna drive my baby, you gonna do it properly."

"Is that a Cali thing?"

Billy stopped and stared at Steve. "It's a Midwestern thing! Are we not in the Midwest?"

"I don't know where you heard that, but it wasn't here..." Steve mumbled and started walking again.

"I don't know. Girl sounded like she was from Minnesota or something. Liked the sound of it."

"Where are you meeting these people?"

Billy sighed. "Just hurry up. I want my prize."

They stood at the top of the hill, sun to their backs, hair blowing lazily in the breeze, and looked out across Hawkins. It was beautiful, trees laden with freshly fallen snow, lights twinkling from houses all across town.

Billy kissed Steve's cheek. "Don't get hurt. Or I'll fucking kill you myself."

"God, you're so sweet. Don't know how you were single when we met," Steve retorted.

"Brat."

"Asshole."

Billy waggled his tongue at Steve. "You ready, princess?"

Steve groaned, finally setting down his sled. "On three?"

Billy nodded and began counting. As he was about to reach three, Steve grabbed Billy's sled and chucked it at hard as he could in the opposite direction. Billy swore profusely and chased after it.

"Three!" Steve shouted and scooted his sled down the hill. He tucked his feet in as he gained speed, but after a few moments he realized he was going way too fast and there were way too many trees between him and the bottom. He threw out his arms to slow himself down. This was insane. Billy was fucking insane.

A snowball exploded on the back of Steve's head, surprising him more than hurting him. Whipping his head around, he caught a glimpse of Billy, flitting between trees, gaining on him. Steve looked back just in time to dodge a tree. His heart jumped into his throat.

The forest blurred past him and his heartbeat only hammered harder. He'd watched Billy knick a tree, watched the edge of his sled explode, watched the blonde almost topple off. But he didn't. And he didn't stop. Because he was insane.

"I'm out!" Steve called, slowing himself to a stop. "Babe, you win!" But either Billy didn't hear him or he didn't care.

The speed at which he tore down the hill was sickening. Steve kept waiting to hear a crash, a snap, a scream. He grabbed his sled and half ran, half slipped down the hill. Snow kicked up in flurries around him, settling on his face, falling below the collar of his jacket, melting against the heat of his skin. His body felt too hot, the air too cold. Where was Billy?

A hollar split the air, stilling Steve's heart. "C'mon, loser! I want my prize!" Billy screamed from somewhere down the hill. Goddamn him.

"I can't believe this is why you wanted to turn the pool into an ice rink," Steve growled.

Billy laughed and it tumbled from him like smoke. "Hurry up."

"Can I please wear _something_? I really don't want to get hypothermia from this shit."

Billy sighed and threw his hands in the air. "Fine, you can wear a scarf. But make it fast. I'll be outside."

When Steve joined Billy outside, he was clad in nothing but boots and an oversized scarf.

"The fuck is that?" Billy asked, unamused.

"It's a scarf, like you said."

Billy crossed his arms over his bare chest. "That's not where you wear a scarf, Harrington. C'mon, I'm being nice letting you wear anything, because that wasn't the deal. So, don't be a dick. Show me your dick." He gestured toward himself. "I'm showing you mine."

"Who the fuck plays hockey naked? On a pool? In boots?"

"We do." Billy raised his eyebrows in expectation. "Steve, your dick. Now."

Steve sighed and removed the scarf. Billy grinned and handed him a hockey stick. "First to five wins."

Steve slipped and slid everywhere, hitting Billy in the shins with his hockey stick more than he hit the puck. When Steve's feet kicked out from under him, Billy caught him around the waist and pulled him closer.

"Better be careful, Bambi," Billy purred, pressing his body against Steve's. Then he made an odd movement with his arm. "Looks like I just scored again. One more. Better get your shit together, loser."

Steve whipped around to see the puck resting on the edge of the pool, right inside his goal. "Damnit. Can we just say you win and go inside?"

Billy sighed and scooted his way over to the puck. "Just one more, babe."

"Fine, but you should know... I'm just gonna let-"

"Last one to the house makes hot cocoa!" Billy yelled as soon as he reached the pool's edge. He waggled his tongue at Steve and did a little jig before running to the house.

Steve just smiled and slowly made his way inside.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Gimme some of that sweet sweet angsty harringrove I want mutual pinning Misunderstanding Drunk kissing Heart ache and pain Ples

Billy peeled off his shirt, discarding it in a bush as he walked past. It was covered in beer and sweat and the cool night air felt too good on his hot skin to keep it on any longer. The world had begun to feel fuzzy at the edges and he was sure that if he focused on it too long the whole thing would come unraveled. But maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. And maybe if he drank a little more he, too, could come unraveled. 

"Jesus, man, are you allergic to shirts or something?"

Before Billy even turned toward the voice, he knew who it belonged to, knew the shape of that pretty little mouth. Steve stood behind him, hands on his hips in a way Billy was sure made Steve feel powerful. But it only made Billy want to hit him, want to kiss him. God, everything was starting to bleed together. 

Billy shook his head, trying to clear his mind. "Harrington. Fancy meeting you here." 

The brunette rolled his eyes. Either Billy was playing dumb or he was already wasted. Or maybe a bit of both. Steve had a hard time believing Billy wasn't already mostly shitfaced. Though, if he was being honest with himself, Steve wasn't far behind. 

"This is my house, asshole," he retorted. 

Billy just laughed. It was raspy, more of an inhale than anything, but it made Steve's knees weak. "That would explain all the prissy bullshit inside," Billy said. He didn't know why he didn't just shut up, didn't just throw Harrington on the ground and lick that stupid snarl off his face. 

"I don't remember inviting you to the party." 

The laughter died on Billy's lips and he licked them, catching his tongue between his teeth. It was a familiar gesture to Steve, something he never got tired of seeing. The air between them grew thick and heavy and it weighed on each of them. 

Steve was so sick of this shit. Sick of Billy standing there like he had something to prove to the world. Sick of watching him from behind this façade of disdain. Sick of watching Billy's tongue dance over his teeth and lips instead of feeling it dance across his skin. Sick of this fucking game. 

Billy thrived on this shit. It made his heart slam in his chest, his skin ripple with shivers, his breath catch in his lungs. He would play until they were out of cards and the stakes were so high that he would either lose Steve forever or the boy would never leave his side again. There was no in between for Billy. He was all in and just waiting for Steve to show his final hand. 

The blonde stepped forward until he was mere inches away. Harrington stilled. "You kicking me out?" Billy asked at last. 

Steve's attention was entirely focused on Billy's mouth. He could hear the blonde talking, could understand what he was saying, but Steve didn't have the capacity to process a response in that moment. 

"Didn't think so," Billy breathed. He lit a cigarette and took a long drag, blowing the smoke at the small part between Steve's lips. "I'll be upstairs. Come find me when you finally get the balls to actually do something about it." And he was gone. 

Steve had had his chance. He could have ended this tiresome game right there, but he'd choked. And now Billy was off his leash like some rabid dog and Steve had to chase him down. Put him out of his misery, end this ridiculous mating ritual.

When Steve finally found him, Billy was curled up in the empty space of Steve's bedroom window, cigarette dangling from his lips. He looked up at the sound of Steve's footsteps and there was an incandescent fire behind his ocean eyes. He exhaled a plume of smoke and took a swig from the bottle in his hand, all the while never breaking eye contact. 

"You came," was all he said. He almost looked surprised. Almost looked scared. 

Steve opened his mouth, but the words had dug in deep and refused to come out. But when he closed his mouth, he could feel them pushing at the back of his teeth like they would destroy him if he didn't speak them now. But before he could so much as breathe, Billy was crossing the room to meet him. 

Then his lips were on Steve's. And it burned. Like the shock of hot water against frozen skin. Like the blossom of pain after knuckles met bone. Like the wild panic that burns through your body when you realize you've been caught in a lie so big you don't know how to survive the truth. 

Steve pulled away. "Billy…" The blonde scraped his teeth over Steve's bottom lip. "This isn't what I came here for," Steve said, his voice shaking. "I can't do this. Not with you." 

The fire burning in Billy's eyes shifted, turned volatile. It licked at the edges until all the boy could see was a searing light. He seethed and it felt like it had tumbled from him like the growl of a caged animal. Like something ready to tear asunder. 

But all Steve heard was a whimper. And Billy backed away, heavy lids and dark lashes hiding his eyes. Steve had made his last move and Billy had lost. The stakes had been too high and he'd lost. Lost Steve. And he thought he would be okay with it, like he had been okay with every other boy he'd ever toyed with that had gotten away. But Steve… 

"I'm sorry," Steve whispered. And he was. He had wanted Billy with every fiber of his being, but the boy was wild and volatile and toxic. And this was surely just a game to him. And Steve didn't know how to handle that. He was combustible and he was terrified that if he let Billy anywhere near him… He would burn up. And that would be it. 

Billy laughed and it was one of the most godawful, hollow sounds Steve had ever heard another person make. He glanced around the room like he was lost, blinking rapidly. The bottle in his hand shot to his lips and he took a long swig, alcohol dribbling down his chin and onto his chest. He wouldn't look at Steve. 

"I'm just gonna…" Billy muttered and pushed past the other boy. 

"Wait." Steve's hand shot out and closed firmly around Billy's arm. He didn't know what to say. That he was wrong? No, he wasn't. Billy _was_ a volatile mess and Steve _was_ a combustible and delicate thing. But that didn't mean it couldn't work. There were species of trees that required fire in order for their seeds to sprout. Maybe that was Steve, too. Maybe he needed Billy to burn away the resinous coating that was keeping him in this perpetual state of unhappiness. Of longing and loneliness. 

He didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything at all. Billy's lips tasted like cigarettes and whiskey and Steve savored it like it was a delicacy he would never taste again in his life. And Billy's tongue danced across Steve's lips and teeth the same way it always did Billy's. And Steve's knees were so weak. And his bed was _right there_. And it was just them. Just them. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:
> 
> 26) "Can you please be serious for one minute? I'm trying to ask you out."
> 
> 32) Angry love confession

Steve's face was pressed against Billy's chest, his hair ruffled, a little from Billy running his fingers through it just now, a little from Billy grabbing it in fistuls during sex, and a little from the fact that Steve's hair was secretly unruly. It was a whole process for him to tame it into the glorious masterpiece it usual was and Billy had seen it a few times, on the occasion that Steve had somewhere to be right after their little rendezvous. But Steve had nowhere else to be today, and Billy preferred his hair like this anyway. 

He drew absent-mindedly on Steve's back with his fingertips, his thoughts drifting away on the faint breeze floating in through the open window. Neither of them ever stayed very long after. It wasn't part of their arrangement. And in the almost six months they'd spent sneaking into each other's bedrooms or pulling the Camaro into a secluded area or sneaking off between classes, or after work once summer has started, neither of them had ever fallen asleep afterward. Certainly not snuggled up like they were a _thing._ Certainly not when it was against every instinct they both had. 

Because this turns into staying the night. And staying the night turns into spending the day together. And spending the day together turns into spending all their time together. And that leads to nowhere but heartache and pain. Because Billy doesn't know how to do relationships. He doesn't know how to handle something so fragile. 

Despite the creeping feeling in the back of his head telling him to shake Steve awake and kick him out straight away, Billy let it slide. The boy was warm and comfortable and way too adorable when he was asleep. And this way, Billy didn't have to deal with any of the dumb shit that came out of his pretty mouth. So he closed his eyes, let his fingers dance across Steve's skin, and didn't even realize when he, too, fell asleep. 

When he awoke, night had already fallen dusty and cool, filled with the sound of crickets. And Steve was gone. A small pang tore through Billy's heart at the absence, because Steve hadn't even bothered to wake him up long enough to say 'goodbye,' because he missed Steve when he was gone, because he lov- No. But the feeling was soon replaced with relief. If Steve had woken him up, he would have pulled him back into bed and asked him to stay. And there was nowhere for that to go but straight downhill. 

So when the doorbell rang, Billy grumbled and pulled on his jeans, not expecting to see a hastily combed mop of unruly hair behind his front door. But there he was, King Steve, holding… 

"Flowers?" Billy laughed. "Are you apologizing for being shit in bed?" 

Steve's brow furrowed. "No, I- Wait, what? I was bad?" 

Billy shrugged. "I don't know, you're the one apologizing for it." 

"I'm not…" Steve growled. "That's not what these are for. I was wondering…" Steve looked down and scuffed the toe of his shoe on the ground. 

"If you wanted to go another round, all you had to do was ask. Don't need to woo me back into my own bed." 

Steve sighed in exasperation, looking up at Billy with his big doe eyes. " **Can you please be serious for one minute? I'm trying to ask you out.** " 

Billy laughed. Because it was easier to deal with than the tightness forming in his chest. "Okay, you got me. Flowers were a nice touch." 

"I'm being serious, asshole." 

Billy's laugh turned to ash in his mouth. "No, Harrington, you're not. Because this," he said, gesturing at Steve, "goes against our entire arrangement." 

"Fuck the arrangement!" Steve shouted, throwing the bouquet on the ground. He was getting riled up and Billy could almost feel the anger radiating off of him. "I want more than just sex! I want you! All of you. I need all of you."

Billy covered his face with his hands, letting out a heavy sigh. "Please don't ruin this whole thing because you're feeling a little emotional today." The tightness in his chest was growing and he was starting to feel sick. When Steve didn't answer, he started closing the door. 

But Steve's hand shot out to catch it. "A little emotional?" he scoffed. "I love you, you dick!" 

Billy took a step back, shaking his head. "You don't mean that." 

"I do, babe. And I know you feel it, too. You're just too fucking scared to say it." Steve stepped forward and caught Billy's cheek with his hand. "I love you, Billy. And I wanna do this right." 

Billy closed his eyes, a lone tear bursting from beneath his lashes. He _was_ scared. Because everyone he had ever loved either left him or hated him. His mom. His dad. Max. Why would Steve be any different?

"It's okay to be scared," Steve whispered, wiping the tear from Billy's cheek. "And you don't have to say anything. Just let me stay." 

And God help him, he did.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:
> 
> 29) "I wasn't asking you out! I was challenging you to a fight!"
> 
> 50) Secret admirer

It was resting on top of Steve's English textbook when he opened his locker. It was written on a scrap of paper, almost like it had been hastily done. But the handwriting was neat and looping and careful. And… Cute? Could handwriting be cute?

"What's that?" Nancy asked, peeking over Steve's shoulder.

"I think it's a note from a secret admirer," he said in awe.

Nancy's eyes went wide and she snatched the note from Steve. Holding it up, she read aloud, " _King Steve, I don't know if it's fate or circumstance that keeps bringing us together like this, but I'm tired of this dance. Meet me behind the video store after school today. And come prepared, pretty boy_." Nancy looked up at him, brow slightly furrowed. "Sounds, uh…" She blushed.

"Come prepared?" Steve said. At the look on Nancy's face, his eyebrows shot up. " _Oh_ … Like… Condoms? Oh my god…" A grin slowly started spreading across his face. "Think she's cute?" He made an excited noise and looked down the hallway, trying to see if anyone was watching him. "Ugh, I wonder who it is."

His heart was fluttering wildly in his chest and he grabbed the letter back from Nancy with shaking hands. He reread it, then flipped it every which way to see if there was any hint as to who it was. If she was cute, well… He wouldn't be opposed to taking her up on her offer. If she wasn't, he could… Say he was there to pick up a movie. He really hoped she was cute. He didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings.

The rest of the day dragged by and when the final bell rang, Steve nearly ran to his car. He parked in front of the video store, sitting perfectly still for a good five minutes, trying to talk himself into walking to the back. He was flattered. Someone really liked him. But it could be anyone. And it scared him a little. What if she thought he was only there for sex? What if he _was_ only there for sex?

He almost drove away, but his curiosity was eating away at him. At last, he climbed out of his car and strolled back behind the store. But the only person there was Billy Hargrove, leaning against the wall and smoking. Steve should have known it was a joke. Nobody admired him, secretly or otherwise.

Billy took a long drag and kicked off the wall. Smoke curled from his lips and nostrils as he made his way toward Steve, flicking the cigarette butt away.

"Well, well, well," he said, voice deep and rasping, "If it isn't Harrington." He smirked and ran his tongue over his teeth. "Gotta be honest, man. I'm surprised you showed up."

Steve was in the process of turning on his heel and leaving. If Billy knew he'd been stood up by a secret admirer, Steve would never hear the end of it. But Billy's words caught him off guard. He looked back at the blonde boy, frowning.

"That note was from you?"

Billy laughed. "What, you're surprised?"

Steve's eyes went wide and he felt his cheeks flush. Was he really that oblivious? "Well… Yeah. I thought you hated me."

Billy's eyebrows knitted together. "If you're trying to make some kind of point, I don't get it."

Steve fiddled with the zipper on his jacket. He had never even considered that Billy picked on him because he liked him. He chanced a glance up at the boy. He really was so gorgeous, with those ocean eyes and that radiant smile and those cute little freckles. Steve's heart stammered.

"Uh, well," he laughed nervously. "I never expected you to be my secret admirer. I think I get it though… And… I'm not upset." Billy's eyes, usually half-lidded and bored, came alive, going wide. It was so cute Steve's heart melted. "So… Yeah. I'll go out with you."

Billy stood there, unmoving, for a long time. Slowly, his face melted into some semblance of anger. " **I wasn't asking you out! I was challenging you to a fight!** "

Steve scrambled for the letter in his pocket and reread it. "No!" he said shakily, "You were clearly asking me out. And it sounds like specifically for sex!"

" _I what_?!" Billy roared, snatching the note from Steve. "See, here I say I'm tired of bickering with you. And then I challenge you to a fight. Here. And tell you to come prepared because, honestly, you suck at fighting."

Steve shook his head, taking the note back. "No, look. You say fate keeps bringing us together and you're tired of fighting it. So you want to meet up. And fuck."

Billy was flustered and yelling. "I think I would know if I was challenging you to a fight or inviting you out for a booty call!"

Steve shrugged and smiled at the look on Billy's face. "Honestly, I'm not sure you would. So… Are we doing this or what?"

Suddenly Billy was pushing him and Steve was stumbling backwards. Maybe he _had_ misread the note. And then Billy's hands were grabbing his collar and Steve closed his eyes, bracing for impact. Billy's lips were soft when they met Steve's. It was a long, deep kiss. The kind you saw in movies.

"Well…" Billy breathed, " _did_ you come prepared?"

"Do I look like an idiot?" Steve panted, fishing around in his pockets.

"Yeah, kinda."

Steve shut him up with another kiss.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:
> 
> 2) "You're the worst person I've ever met."
> 
> 28) "Okay, just because I said I loved you one time does not mean we're a thing."
> 
> (this one does not have a happy ending, just a warning)

Loud music and drunken laughter spilled out onto the lawn. The house was crammed with bodies and booze and bad choices. Down the hall, a door opened and someone slowly slipped out, wearing a wild grin on his handsome face. 

Billy was leaning back against the bathroom counter, head resting on the wall, shirt open, pants still undone. He was a little drunk and a little pissed off from last night, but his body felt good and it was slowly spreading to his brain. And he finally started thinking maybe he was wrong and tonight wouldn't be so bad. 

Until Steve stumbled into the bathroom, drink in hand. He smiled when he saw Billy, but then his eyes fell to the unzipped pants, to Billy slowly going soft, and his smile shattered. 

"The fuck?" he slurred. He scowled at the other boy, face distorting with disgust and disappointment and hurt. 

Billy rubbed at his eyes before zipping himself back up. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like… What? Like you were just cheating on me? Who was it? Billy. Who were you just fucking? The guy I passed in the hall?" 

Billy sighed and pushed past Steve into the hallway. "I can't cheat on you if we're not dating, Steve. We talked about this." 

Steve laughed, a gutteral, hollow sound. "Not dating? Seriously? Last night-" 

"Last night was a fucking mistake!" Billy snapped. 

It had somehow simultaneously been the best and worst night of Billy's life. He'd been completely blissed out with Steve laying on his chest, staring into those stupid doe eyes, and he'd said the dumbest fucking thing he could imagine. He ruined everything. Lit their whole fucking relationship on fire. Lit himself on fire. And now they could never go back to what they had before.

It had been simple, clean, with no attachment, no disappointment. But then Billy had gone and fallen for the stupid brunette and was too damn selfish and scared to break things off before Steve started feeling the same way. But last night… Billy knew. He could see it in the way Steve had looked at him, hear it in his voice, feel it resonating in his touch. 

But things are never supposed to be like this. Steve was supposed to get sick of Billy, sick of his fucking attitude, sick of him sleeping around, and leave. Then Steve would find someone who actually deserved him, not a walking trash fire. Then Steve would be happy. 

"But… Billy, we-" 

" **Okay, just because I said I loved you one time does not mean we're a thing.** It was a mistake." 

Steve stared at him like Billy had just punched him in the face. And he might as well have. Should have. It would have hurt less. 

"But I love you, too," he whispered. 

Billy sighed and closed his eyes. He was about to dump a barrel of gasoline on this dumpster fire and there was no going back. It had to be a clean break, or Steve wouldn't move on. He was too stubborn.

"I didn't mean it," Billy sighed. Except he had. But Steve deserved better, and Billy didn't. Billy didn't deserve anything. 

"Don't say that. Don't you dare fucking say that." Steve's lip was trembling. His voice was trembling. His entire goddamn body was trembling, and all Billy wanted to do was hold him and apologize. But it would never work. He was too fucked up, too much of an asshole, and Steve was too sweet, too soft.

"Jesus, Steve," Billy said, moving down the hall. "You really think I'd settle for a has-been who's half decent in bed when I can have whoever the fuck I want? Get over yourself." He couldn't look at Steve. There were tears clinging to his lashes and his eyes were burning a brilliant blue. "If you still wanna fuck, you know where to find me." But he knew Steve wouldn't.

"You're really ending it like this?" Billy could hear the heartbreak in Steve's voice, could feel the world splintering around him. 

Billy took a deep breath and steadied himself. "Ending what? We never had anything." 

Steve let out a weak laugh. " **You're the worst person I've ever met**. Fucking asshole." 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:
> 
> 7) "You're a fucking idiot if you think I don't love you."
> 
> 10) "I love you." "That's the dumbest shit you've ever said."

Steve looked up into eyes so blue the ocean itself would have wept in jealousy of them. Sometimes he dreamt of that blue. He never remembered the dreams themselves, just the blue, that it had been there. The skin at the corner of Billy's eyes wrinkled and he flashed Steve a radiant smile. 

"What is it, Bambi?" 

Steve was silent for a minute. His body felt like it was overflowing, like they would both drown any minute now, and it scared him. He was afraid Billy would save himself and leave Steve there to choke on his own emotions until he went under. For good. 

His voice was low and dewy when he finally spoke. " **I love you**."

Billy laughed. It clattered against Steve's bones like music and rain. " **That's the dumbest shit you've ever said** ," Billy told him, sitting up and lighting a smoke. "Where the fuck did that come from?" 

Steve shrugged, saying, "I don't know, but it's true," and traced his fingers lightly over the bruises marring the skin of Billy's ribs, wanting to mend them. The blonde twitched and pulled away. 

"Can we not do this right now?" There was a hard edge to his voice that hadn't been there earlier.

Steve frowned and reached for Billy again, interlacing their fingers. Billy looked down at their linked hands and sighed, but didn't pull away. He squeezed Steve's hand once and fell back on the bed, cigarette bouncing at the corner of his mouth. His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell a little too quickly. 

"Billy… What is it?" Steve was pretty sure Billy was going to break up with him, or at the very least, tell him he doesn't love him. He tried to brace himself, but it was like a hurricane was coming and all Steve had to protect himself with was an umbrella. 

"I don't…" Billy said, voice wavering. "I just…" He sighed and took an impossibly long drag on his cigarette, blowing it out so slowly Steve thought he might die waiting. "I don't know how to do this. Every time- When I…" Billy growled in frustration. 

"Take your time," Steve breathed, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. He wished Billy would open his eyes so he could get lost in the utter blueness of them. Wished Billy would just get it over with. 

When Billy spoke, it was slow and careful, like he was afraid of his own words. "Love has only ever let me down. The people who are supposed to love me don't and the people I love either hate me or leave me. So… I'm sorry, Steve. I just... can't."

Billy finally opened his eyes and looked at Steve. They were somehow brighter and bluer now, like the pain inside Billy had cut them into gems and the tears dampening his lashes had polished them. Steve wanted to cry for him, because he knew Billy wouldn't do it himself. The boy was probably already embarrassed about the gloss in his eyes and on his lashes. 

Billy stood, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray next to the bed, and pulled on his clothes. So there it was. He was walking out on their relationship and there was nothing Steve could do to stop him. Steve didn't know how he was supposed to survive this. Again. At least Billy didn't lie to him like Nancy had. But God, he almost wished he had. Then maybe one day Billy would have realized it was true, and Steve would be none the wiser.

"Can I have one last kiss?" Steve whimpered. "Just one?" 

Billy looked at him like Steve had just asked for his soul. "What do you mean ' _one last kiss?_ '" His entire body seemed to collapse ever so slightly. "Are you… Are you breaking up with me because I didn't say it?" His face suddenly twisted in anger. " **You're an idiot if you think I don't love you**." 

"You… What?" Steve didn't understand. Had Billy not just said he couldn't love him? That he couldn't do this relationship? Or was Steve being an idiot again? Had he misunderstood? 

Billy threw his hands in the air. "There, I said it! I love you, Steve! With your stupid hair. And your stupid face. And those stupid, stupid eyes. And, God, now you're gonna leave me, or hate me, or… I don't know. Why are you smiling? Put it away, it's stupid, too." 

But Steve couldn't. Billy loved him. And he was never going to leave, was never going to hate him. How could he? 


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:
> 
> 25) "Does this mean-" "No." "But-" "No."
> 
> 33) Fighting turns to kissing

Steve wasn't really even sure what had started it. Maybe Billy had made some stupid comment, or maybe Steve had. But Billy had dragged him outside by his collar and thrown him to the ground. Steve came up swinging, still remembering the feel of Billy's fists against his face that night at the Byers' and not at all wanting to relive that. 

Billy laughed, that same goddamn laugh he had when he was full of fire and high on adrenaline, all harsh and rasping. It wasn't genuine _laughter_ but it was genuine _emotion_ , and it did something to Steve, because it wasn't often Billy dropped the bored asshole façade and showed something real. Steve's heart hammered in his chest as he watched Billy wipe the blood from his mouth and step forward. 

"You're getting better. Still shit, but better." There was an odd glint in his eyes, like he _wanted_ Steve to hit him again, _wanted_ the pain and the blood that came with it. But Steve couldn't give it to him, couldn't hit that pretty face again. He regretted punching him in the first place. 

Billy hadn't hit him yet, hadn't even tried, and it made Steve feel weird. Wrong. Like something had shifted in the world and he was the only one who had noticed, maybe even the only one who would care. 

"I'm talking to you, Harrington," Billy spat, that glint in his eye flaring blindingly. 

"Yeah, you never shut the fuck up." Not that Steve wanted him to. He could listen to that voice forever. 

Billy grinned, slowly gliding his tongue over his teeth. It was just as mesmerizing as the first time he'd done it, even with the blood marring his smile, or maybe even more so because of it. He stepped forward again, dangerously close to Steve now. 

"Well, I need _something_ to do with my mouth, Harrington." 

Steve didn't even have time to process the words before Billy's lips were on his. He tasted like cigarettes and mint and it took Steve a moment to realize he was paying attention to the taste of _Billy's mouth_ , to the way it felt against his own. He pulled away, startled. 

"Billy…" The name tumbled from him like it had been waiting. But no words followed it. Just _Billy_ hanging in the air between them, no explanation, no elaboration. 

Something flashed in Billy's eyes. Hurt? Humiliation? But then it was flooded by the familiar anger. "The fuck, man?" he spit. 

Steve's head spun. He should be the one asking that, not Billy. He should be grabbing Billy's collar and throwing him against the wall and… Interrogating him? Kissing him? Steve opened his mouth to say something, but didn't have the faintest idea what. 

Billy's face was turning pink and he seemed unable to look Steve in the eye. His fingers kept curling into fists, relaxing, curling, like he was debating whether or not to finally punch Steve. He opened his mouth to speak, but Steve beat him to it. 

**"Does this mean-"**

**"No."**

**"But-"**

**"No."**

"Billy…"

"I'm not a… I'm not fucking gay, Harrington!" he growled, shoving Steve backward. 

"Then what the fuck was that? Seemed pretty gay to me."

Billy's fist was in his face and he was seeing bursts of starlight before he could even register what was happening. Pain blossomed in his nose, blood pouring quickly down his face. 

"Jesus, man. I wasn't complaining! I-" 

Billy's fist stopped short of landing another blow, hanging in the air inches away from Steve's jaw. The look on the blonde's face was odd, like he was both angry and relieved at the same time.

"You what?" he asked, voice low and hoarse. 

"I… Liked it."

"Now that's awfully fucking gay, Harrington…" 

Steve smirked, a sudden burst of idiocy flooding his veins. This would either go very well for him or very, very poorly. "Too bad _you're_ not."

Suddenly Billy was shoving him into the ground again, kneeling between Steve's legs, Steve's collar bunched up in his fists, mouth… Mouth on Steve's again. Cigarettes and mint. Soft lips. And Billy's hands on his face, caressing him. 

Steve didn't pull away this time. Couldn't. He would kiss that boy until his lungs gave out. 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:
> 
> 25) "Does this mean-" "No." "But-" "No."
> 
> 39) Stranded with a broken-down car.

"C'mon, man. Just get back in the car. You're gonna freeze to death." Steve had the window cracked just enough to yell at Billy. Flurries kept slipping in and settling in his hair and melting against his skin.

"I'll get in when this piece of shit is fixed!" Billy growled and kicked the tire.

Steve sighed and rolled the window back up. He didn't have the faintest clue what was wrong with the car, but something had made a godawful wrenching noise and Billy had pulled over in a panic. He'd already been under the hood for ten minutes when the snow started to fall. Five minutes later, Steve could barely see the trees along the side of the road.

After what seemed like ages, Billy finally wrenched open the driver door and clambered in, all rosy cheeks and glossy eyes. "She's done for," Billy said quietly. "Timing chain broke and, well… Engine's mangled."

"Shit," Steve breathed.

"Yeah. Shit. Gotta get it towed." He sighed and rested his forehead on the steering wheel and they both sat in silence for several minutes before Billy finally spoke again. "Guess I'm gonna start walking."

Steve stared at him. "Um, excuse me, did we not just have this conversation? _You'll freeze to death._ And look," he gestured out the window, "it's a fucking blizzard out there. And it'll be dark in, like, half an hour, man."

Billy looked up, eyes half lidded. "This is your fault."

"Mine?" Steve said in exasperation.

"If you hadn't begged me with those stupid puppy dog eyes of yours to give you a ride to bum fuck nowhere, my baby would be safe at home and I'd be… Well, not having to spend God knows how long out here with you." He glanced over at Steve, an unreadable expression dancing across his face for a moment before Billy's usual emotionless mask came back down.

The blizzard outside was only getting worse, laying down a thick blanket of snow across the Camaro's hood. Steve hadn't even considered what they were actually going to do about their situation. He was going to be stuck with Billy fucking Hargrove for _hours_ , maybe even _all night_. In the same fucking car.

It wasn't that Steve still hated Billy. It wasn't even that he disliked Billy, because the boy had apologized. More than once. Profusely. And Steve had forgiven him. No, it was that they weren't exactly friends, weren't exactly anything you could put a label on. It was that Steve had developed some sort of bizarre crush on the resident bad boy and knew that the more time he spent with Billy, the closer he got to letting it slip through the fractures in his façade. And the closer he got to his whole life finally imploding when Billy turned him down.

"We're probably gonna have to spend the night here…" Steve breathed, hoping his voice sounded a lot steadier than he felt.

Billy hung his head before dipping out of the car and trudging around to the trunk. Steve watched him out of the corner of his eye. When Billy climbed back in, he was clutching a thick wool blanket in his hand. He looked soft and sweet, large flakes of snow clinging to his blonde curls and settling on his shoulders.

"I only have the one," he said, glumly.

Steve took it from him, letting it unfold onto his lap. It was too small to stretch across the entire car and, based on the look on his face, Billy already knew that. Steve glanced at the back seat, then back to Billy.

" **Does that mean** -"

" **No**."

" **But** -"

" **No**."

"Billy, don't be stubborn."

His blue eyes widened as they skipped across Steve's face. "I'm not _snuggling_ with you in the back seat. I'd rather freeze to death."

It took him a half hour of shivering alone after Steve had laid down to go to sleep before Billy finally clambered into the back and tucked himself under the blanket with Steve. His skin was ice cold and he was shivering horribly. Steve wrapped his arms around the boy and, surprisingly, Billy let him.

"What happened to 'I'd rather freeze to death?'"

Billy simply grunted, shifting awkwardly on the seat, like he didn't want to put his ass against Steve, didn't want to put his dick against Steve, but also didn't have enough room to lay on his back.

"Would you quit? You keep pulling the blanket off me," Steve huffed, tucking himself in again.

"Shut up. I'm trying to get comfy." Billy rolled again and brushed against Steve.

Steve's heart jumped up into his throat, dislodging a question he had thought but had not planned on asking. "You wanna be the big spoon or something?"

Billy froze, half lifted from the seat, and stared up into Steve's face. Billy's eyes were somehow still bright, even in the gathering darkness. He slowly settled himself back onto the seat. His head twitched, chin dipping down for the briefest moment, before returning. It took Steve several seconds to realize it had been a nod.

They shuffled, Steve clambering over top of Billy, Billy sliding his back up against the backrest. Neither said anything and the only sound in the Camaro was the sound of their bodies shifting against one another. At last they hovered, Steve a mere inch from Billy, breath held fast in his lungs. How had they gotten here? Why wasn't Billy putting up a bigger fight? Would this… Would they…

"Jesus, Harrington, this was your idea," Billy grumbled before slipping his arm over Steve's waist and pulling him tight to his own body.

Steve woke up to his knee knocking against something. He groaned and shifted. Then his hand brushed over fabric, then hot skin. Realization slogged through his drowsy mind a little too slowly. His eyes shot open to find Billy's face inches away from his own. He started to roll back over, afraid of what the blonde would do if he woke up now, only to find Steve pressed up against him, but…

Billy was already staring at him, blue eyes mostly hidden behind his dark lashes, lips slightly parted, hand still at Steve's waist.

The night swam around them, cool and quiet and endless. Eyes drank each other in. Hands drew tentatively over skin. Lips inched ever closer.

"Billy, I-" Steve began.

"Shut up." Billy's hand was pulling away from Steve's waist.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"I told you to shut up." His hand slid up Steve's arm, delicately, purposefully, and came to rest on his cheek.

"I don't… Understand. Billy-"

But Billy's mouth was on Steve's and it was hungry. And all the odd moments they had shared since the last time Billy tumbled in through Steve's front door, whiskey and apologies hot on his tongue, came flooding back, illuminated in a different light. Staying late after basketball practice when their conversations turned from strategies to personal lives. Hanging out together at parties because everyone else was too drunk and unbearable. Racing each other down back roads even though Billy won every single time. Billy leaning on Steve's locker between classes, only to laugh and walk away when Steve asked him what he wanted. Billy offering to let Steve copy his homework when he realized he'd left his at home. Billy, always nearby, always engaging. Billy. Always Billy.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:
> 
> 15) "I can't lose you. I just can't."
> 
> 43) Comfort after a fight

Steve didn't even know the guys Billy had gotten in a fight with. Maybe it was because they were a grade below him. Maybe it was because they didn't really run in the same crowd as Steve, and until recently that was something that had seemed important.

The fight was nasty. Three guys, all built a little more like Steve than like Billy, had the denim-clad blonde on the ground in the parking lot. Yet, somehow, it looked like Billy was still winning. He had one kid in a bizarre headlock that looked painful for both people involved, his boot had just collided hard with the soft spot beneath another guy's ribs, and the third guy was trying to staunch the bloody nose Billy had just given him. 

Steve pulled each of the bloodied attackers off of Billy and threw them bodily away. They all seemed grateful for the interruption. Billy, on the other hand, looked like Steve had just taken away his favourite toy. 

"I was doing just fine on my own," he grumbled, wiping blood from the split in his lip. 

"Yeah, I noticed. Was more worried about what _you_ were gonna do to _them_." He helped Billy to his feet and started brushing the dirt from his jacket. "What was that about, anyway?" 

Billy's eyes dropped out of focus and Steve could almost see the mist rolling in across the ocean blue of them. That look made Steve's heart ache, because he knew what it meant. Beneath the snarl plastered across his face, Billy was frantically trying to lock back up memories that had had the audacity to slip past him when he wasn't paying attention. He also knew those memories always starred Neil. 

"Apparently they had… Seen us… At the quarry. Last night."

" _Oh_." Steve didn't know what else to say. He could imagine what those guys had seen. The Camaro had been tucked as far into the woods as Billy was willing to go, but anyone walking by could have seen them, Billy leaning back against the hood, pants around his thighs, Steve on his knees before him. They had been so careful all year, but with summer rapidly approaching, they wanted to have some fun, let loose a little. They knew better. 

"I think I convinced them to keep their fucking mouths shut." Billy's low voice clawed its way through Steve's thoughts. Neither of them felt any conviction in his words. 

Billy wasn't okay. He may have looked like it to anyone else, but Steve recognized the set to his jaw, the way he played with his ring, that distant look in his eye. He leaned up against the counter, arms hanging awkwardly at his sides, as Steve tried to clean up Billy's cuts. Everything about his posture was wrong, and Steve was starting to get worried. 

"Talk to me," he coaxed. 

He watched Billy's eyes regain their focus before the boy looked up at him. "I'm fine."

"No," Steve insisted, "You're not."

Billy pushed himself onto the counter with a sigh that pricked at Steve's heart. It was dripping with pain and fear and exhaustion. Billy leaned forward, propped his elbows on his thighs, and rested his head against Steve's shoulder. 

"What if my dad finds out?" His voice came out so small and bruised that Steve wanted to cry. 

"He won't." 

"What if he _does_? We'll have to move again. Or he'll find some other way to keep us apart. **I can't lose you. I just can't.** " 

"You're not gonna lose me Billy," Steve assured him, running his fingers through Billy's curls. 

Steve never truly understood how broken Billy was until he heard him speak, soul pouring out into his words, "I lose everything I love."

It would have been easier if Billy had cried. Steve knew how to deal with tears, at least a lot better than he knew how to deal with the gaping abyss that was Billy's trauma. It was dark and cold and tasted like ocean air, like Billy's childhood, and it scared the absolute shit out of Steve. 

The way Billy hid his face in Steve's neck made his heart ache and his knees go weak. The low, jagged breaths in his ear were the only thing Steve could hear. The fingers curled tightly into his shirt and knees pressing until his hips all he could feel. And Billy, small and hurting and hollowed out, was all Steve could think about.

The silence that settled over them was laden with every thought they didn't know how to voice; every memory running through their heads that was supposed to be safely tucked away; every cut, bruise, tear-filled night, and broken heart that never should have happened. Steve held Billy as if the boy would break into a thousand pieces if he let him go. Billy clung to Steve as if the boy might leave him at any second. They held onto the tiny little life they had managed to carve out together in secret. They held onto each other. Because for all either of them knew, this could be the last time they would ever touch each other. 

"No matter what happens to us, no matter where you go, I'll find a way back to you, Billy. I promise." 

With a sharp intake of breath, Billy finally sat up straight. He looked Steve in the eye and held up his pinky finger. Steve smiled, wrapping his own pinky around Billy's, and kissed him. 


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:
> 
> 1) "Get up. I'm not done."
> 
> 13) "Does it hurt?"
> 
> 45) Sharing after-school detention

Nobody had seen how it had started. Hell, even Steve wasn't really sure. He maybe sort of remembered tripping and grabbing onto the closest thing to him. He maybe sort of remembered that being Billy. He maybe sort of may have accidentally kind of simultaneously grabbed Billy's dick _and_ ass at the same time while he flailed helplessly to the ground. He also may have neglected to apologize.

Steve scrambled to his feet, smoothing out his hair and trying to calm his heart. He dared a glance at Billy, who was somewhere between fuming and horrified. Steve should have apologized, but Steve had a knack for doing precisely the wrong thing.

"You make a habit of grabbing dicks, Harrington, or is mine just that special?"

Steve wanted to shrivel up and blow away like a sad, unwanted candy wrapper outside the Seven Eleven. That sounded like a much more pleasing life than the one unfolding before him. So, naturally, in typical Steve fashion, he did what he always does in these situations. He fucked up what he was trying to say.

"What dick? I didn't feel a dick." What he had meant was that he didn't touch Billy's dick, because that would be gay, and Steve "The Hair" Harrington was _not_ gay. Right? But what he had actually, unfortunately, ended up implying was that Billy's dick was too tiny to feel through his jeans, or maybe he didn't even have one. Billy was _furious_.

Steve didn't even have time to fully realize what had come out of his mouth before Billy started swinging. He had no choice but to punch back. Unfortunately for Steve, he hadn't gotten any better at fighting since the last time he squared off with Billy. It only took a couple hits before Steve was tripping again, stumbling to the ground.

"Fuck off, Hargrove!" Steve yelled from the floor.

" **Get up. I'm not done**."

"What, so you can punch me again? Yeah, no thanks." The floor was dirty and stained and Steve felt so _gross_ just laying there, but gross was better than bloody, and the filthy tile floor was a Hell of a lot better than Billy fucking Hargrove.

Just as that very thought entered Steve's mind, Billy grabbed him by his shirt front and pulled him to his feet, just in time for a teacher to maneuver her way through the crowd.

They were probably lucky they didn't get suspended, but none of the teachers had actually _seen_ them hit each other, and no one was bleeding, so… They sat in detention, Steve in the front, Billy in the back, and nothing but silence and animosity accompanying them. And maybe some very confused thoughts running around Steve's head, because he maybe sort of didn't regret grabbing Billy the way he did. And he maybe sort of wanted to do it again, had been wanting to do it for a long time. But he could hear Billy grumbling and swearing under his breath. So yeah, maybe the prospect of some additional grabbing wasn't looking so good right then. Even the teacher couldn't stand being in the same room as them and had since gone off to find something less dreadful with which to occupy himself.

Steve had taken out his books to try and distract himself and was staring at his math homework as though that would actually do something. As though he wasn't actually thinking about the blonde asshole sitting somewhere behind him. As though he wasn't actually thinking that maybe Billy wasn't really an asshole after all, even if he did punch Steve in the face only a few minutes ago.

" **Does it hurt**?"

The deep voice behind him startled Steve so badly that he almost fell out of his chair. He whipped around and stared at Billy, who was sitting lazily on the desk behind him, ocean eyes hidden behind heavy lids and dark lashes.

"Uh… What?" Steve propped his elbow on the edge of the desk, almost face-planted as it slid off, and scrambled to recover smoothly.

The precise rise and furrow of Billy's eyebrows told Steve that he had not, in fact, recovered smoothly at all. "I asked if it hurt." The languid lull of his voice was so incredibly calming that Steve nearly forgot to answer.

His brain did the thing it always does at the absolute worst times. It went on the fritz. "What? Falling from Heaven?"

Billy's mouth twisted into a disgusted scowl. "Did you just _use me_ to hit on _yourself_?"

Steve frowned, confused. "No?"

Billy rolled his eyes, hooking a foot on the chair _under_ Steve's leg and leaning forward. "I meant your face, dumbass."

"Oh." Steve took a moment, trying to discreetly wiggle all the muscles in his face to check for pain. "No. No, I'm fine." Which Steve realized seemed wrong. "You were pulling your punches, weren't you?"

Billy shrugged and a delicate smirk went traipsing across his face. "Well I can't be messing up that pretty little face of yours, can I?" There was a gentle touch then, Billy's fingers gliding briefly over Steve's jaw.

It was Steve's turn to pull a disgusted face. "Did you start an entire fight just to use that line on me?"

Billy's chuckle was like a heavy rainstorm. It took Steve by surprise, loud and brash. But the longer it rolled on, the more relaxed Steve became. He felt it resonate in his bones and he knew he would conjure up that sound again, when no one else was around to see the smile that would inevitably grace his face.

"Hey, man. You're the one who started it, groping me in public and shit," Billy teased.

"Okay, yeah, but that was an accident and you know it!" He nudged Billy's knee playfully.

"It's alright." He whispered conspiratorially, "I kinda liked it." The blonde smiled and it was like the sky split open and all the stars in the heavens sprinkled in through the crack, raining down on Billy. He shone like a shooting star, like all the wishes Steve had ever placed upon a shooting star. And Steve wondered then if maybe this boy would turn out to be the answer to all those wishes.

_I just want a friend._

_I don't want to be alone anymore._

_I want to be happy._

_I want to love._

_I want to be loved._

_Please, just let me be loved._

"You okay there, _angel_?"

"Hm?" Steve looked up, confused.

Billy rolled his eyes again and leaned down, right in Steve's face. His eyes were so blue Steve could have wept. Billy grinned. "You know, cause you fell from Heaven?"

And the boy made of stardust and wishes kissed the boy who had pulled him from the heavens, pulled him from a shooting star.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:
> 
> 6) "Do you even know how to act like a normal person?" 
> 
> 15) "I can't lose you. I just can't."

It was still new, their relationship, like the fresh sprig of a rare plant, pliant and hopeful. But it needed nurturing, something Billy had never been very good at. But who could blame him? He had grown in the absence of sunlight. In a barren tundra. In toxic soil stripped of all its nutrients. Beneath the beautiful façade, he was a scraggly, half dead, ugly _thing_ that grew strictly out of spite. And so how could anyone blame him for not knowing how to grow something so that it would _flourish_?

It was happening again. The roots were starting to rot and soon the whole thing would just _die_. He'd tried so fucking hard, but the hideous leaching thing inside of him had crept out while he wasn't looking, and it was strangling the only good thing Billy had ever managed to grab hold of. 

Steve shook his head and the sheer look of disappointment on his face took Billy out at the knees. Things had already set into motion and he couldn't stop it. He didn't know how. Didn't have the strength. This would ruin him. 

"I asked you for one _simple_ thing, Billy. One!" 

A lock of hair fell from Steve's perfectly coiffed 'do. Billy watched it. He couldn't look at Steve, not in the eye. He couldn't bring himself to see that look again. 

"What? I'm here."

Steve scoffed. "You're _drunk_."

Billy didn't deny it. He may have been a lot of things, but he wasn't a liar. 

Steve lowered his voice, bringing his face so close to Billy's that the blonde finally had to look away from the lock of hair dangling in front of him, and look into Steve's eyes. "I wanted the kids to see you're not who they think you are. I wanted them to see the Billy _I_ see. Not… _This_." He gestured at Billy like he was something repulsive. 

He couldn't blame Steve, not really. Billy was usually an ass when he was drunk. What little restraint he always held onto so tightly would fall away and he would be uncaged. But tonight… Billy wasn't really Billy anymore. 

The façade had been peeled, no, _hacked_ away, until what was left was some horrific semblance of what maybe could have passed as Billy. Then what made him truly _him_ had been carved out and he was left hollow and aching. No, this scraggly thing was no longer Billy. It was a papery husk of what had once had the potential to really be something beautiful. 

"Don't have anything to say?" 

"Look, I'm sorry. They won't even notice, anyway." Billy made to step inside, but Steve blocked his path. 

"What's wrong with you?" 

Billy scowled. "The fuck are you talking about?" 

" **Do you even know how to act like a normal person**? You come to a movie night with _kids_ on a _Wednesday_ , drunk off your fucking _ass_ , and I'm supposed to be okay with that?" 

"Steve, I-" 

"This isn't normal behavior, Billy. This is some loose cannon bullshit. And I'm _not_ bringing that around the kids." Steve sighed and Billy watched the anger dissolve until something a little too much like concern. Billy didn't like it. 

"Fine. I'll go home."

Steve grabbed his arm. "Billy, wait. What's going on?" 

"I'm fine," he growled and pulled his arm from Steve's grip. 

"Don't give me that shit. Something's wrong." He cocked his head and his brow furrowed. "Really wrong."

The world shifted, settled in a little closer around him. He wasn't ready for this conversation. Their relationship wasn't ready for this conversation. Night pulled in closer. He needed _something_ to tell Steve, but he wasn't a liar. The air seemed to thicken, squeeze, asphyxiate. He couldn't tell Steve what he'd just come from. Couldn't tell him about the bruises. Couldn't tell him why he'd had to show up drunk. 

Steve grabbed Billy's arm again, but this time his fingers caught the angry, freshly bruised skin of Billy's bicep, and he couldn't stop himself from flinching. Steve let go like it had burned him. 

"I… I'm sorry. Billy, what happened? What's wrong?" 

Billy just shook his head, jaw clenched shut, eyelids fluttering.

"Please. Talk to me."

"I can't." Billy started walking backward, shaking his head apologetically, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his jacket. "I'm sorry, but **I can't lose you. I just can't.** " 

The sickly thing inside Billy was coiling tighter and if he didn't leave right then, he wasn't sure he could stop what was coming. Steve followed him, blissfully unaware of the war raging inside Billy's head. 

"No, stop. Why? Why would you lose me?" He grabbed Billy's jacket and held him there, not like Billy was a prisoner, but like Steve couldn't bear to let him go. 

"If you see me, the real me… How could you want that? How could you love something like that?" 

Because the thing Billy saw in the mirror was not himself. It was his father. It was the monster that had created him, in the image of itself. It was everything Billy had ever despised. And now it was replacing him. 

He made to pull away again, but Steve was a force to be reckoned with. He pulled Billy to his chest, slinking his arms under Billy's leather jacket and around his waist. Time ticked ever forward, but it seemed all wrong, slow and blurred at the edges, but millenia passing in a blink at the center, where Steve was wrapped around him. He didn't even have time to rest a hand on Steve's back before the boy was pulling away. No. Billy needed more time. 

The way Steve's hand fit to Billy's cheek as he caressed it only made the pain worse. When Steve finally left him, Billy would be cast away, a puzzle piece without a mate. He would have to find other pieces that were _close_ , that would make him feel _okay_ , but would never actually feel right, not the way Steve did. 

"I'm a fucking _mess_ , Steve."

Steve nodded, hand still anchored to Billy's face like it was the only thing keeping him there. And maybe it was. "Yeah, maybe. But you're _my_ mess. And I don't know what's going on with you, but I hope soon you'll trust me enough to tell me. Because… Because I _do_ love you, Billy. I may not know everything about you, but I know _you_ and I love you." He sighed, his hand falling away from Billy's face to catch his fingers instead. "Come inside. The gang's probably starting to think you kidnapped and murdered me."

Billy laughed, really laughed, and that hollowed out husk he'd become started filling, slowly. Maybe he could still blossom into something beautiful. Something someone would actually want to keep. Something _Steve_ would want to keep. 


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:
> 
> 9) "Either you can fight me or you can fuck me... Or both. I'll accept both." 
> 
> 36) Accidental touching in the shower after basketball

Practice had been rougher than usual. The fire beneath Billy's skin seemed to be closer to the surface than usual. Steve could almost feel it radiating off of him every time the boy came near. He caught Billy staring him down a few times, eyes wide and alert, tongue sliding over his lips. Steve kept expecting Billy to knock him down, jeer at him, _something_ , but it never happened. He was a little disappointed. Any excuse to have Billy grind against him was good enough for Steve. 

He followed the team into the locker rooms once practice was over. He began peeling his clothes off and shoving them in his bag. Normally, he wasn't at all self conscious about his body, or even being naked in front of the team. But he couldn't shake this weird feeling he had, like he was being watched. Like he was being watched by _Billy_. He even found himself _hoping_ he was being watched by Billy. 

But the unnecessarily muscular blonde must have still been out on the court because as Steve glanced around as nonchalantly as he could manage, he didn't catch sight of the other boy. Wrapping his towel around his waist, he made his way to the showers. No Billy there, either. 

Steve took his usual spot, hung up his towel, and turned the water on. He loved showers. Could live in one. He loved the heat and how cozy it made him feel inside his own body. He loved how clean he felt afterward. He loved how relaxed he always became. He loved the smell of his shampoo at home. The locker room shower wasn't really any of that. The water was warmish. He never really felt totally clean afterward and often took another shower when he got home. With all the guys yelling and slamming their lockers, and everyone awkwardly shuffling around and averting their eyes, there was no way he would relax. And of course, he didn't have his Faberge Organics. 

Steve rushed his shower, already deciding he was going to take another when he got home. He just didn't want to feel gross when he put his street clothes back on. He just had to rinse his hair and he could be done and on his way to his own little slice of heaven at home. But nothing ever goes as planned for Steve Harrington. 

The soap. The goddamn soap was in his eyes. And it fucking _stung_. But Steve played it cool. He tried to wash it out. That didn't work. So he squeezed his eyes shut and reached for his towel. What he grabbed was _not_ his towel. 

He let out an embarrassing squeak, stumbled backward, slipped, and landed hard on his ass. When he finally managed to open his eyes, his vision was blurry and he had to blink a thousand times before he could see anything. 

He wished he still had soap in his eyes, because there was a dick. Just… Right there. That was the thing he had grabbed, thinking it was his towel. A dick. An oddly tan dick. Oh… Oh God. No no no no. Nope. No. Definitely not. Nope. No way. Nuh uh. Noooooo. 

"Eyes up here, pretty boy." Steve could hear the smirk in Billy's voice. 

Steve rubbed the water from his eyes, growling, "Get that thing away from me." As much as he didn't actually want Billy's naked body leaving his sight, he didn't need everyone in the locker room to know that.

Billy looked down and laughed before taking a step toward Steve. "Not like you haven't seen it a million times." He bent down and whispered, "I've seen you staring."

Steve jumped to his feet, nearly knocking Billy over. He stared at the blonde with abject horror and reached for the bar of soap on the shelf. He continued to look horrified as he scrubbed his hand clean. Billy simply grinned, watching Steve with mild interest. 

God, Steve felt so dirty. He wanted to kiss Billy, wanted to run straight home and shower for hours, wanted to shove Billy up against the wall and see if he was as fiesty during sex as he was on the court, wanted to hide and never look at Billy again. He was so confused. He just needed to go home. But he couldn't sit through that car ride, feeling Billy's skin on his own, seeing his… His… He shot a quick glance at Billy, who was lazily washing himself like it was a fucking _treat_. Steve's gaze dropped, only for a fraction of a second, before bouncing back up to Billy's face. Those ocean eyes were looking right at him. 

Steve rubbed the soap roughly over his whole body, trying to scrub away whatever feeling was itching across his skin. He had been trying so hard to suppress his desires. But now… 

"What's the matter Harrington?" 

Steve jumped, flinging suds everywhere. "Jesus, man, aren't you done yet? Go home."

Billy quirked his eyebrows. "Me? You were the first one in, last one out."

Steve looked around. He had been so focused on scrubbing every millimeter of skin that he hadn't noticed every leave. It was just him. And Billy. 

"Just trying to wash away the memory of your-" he mimed gagging at the thought of Billy's dick. It probably wasn't very convincing. Didn't feel convincing.

"Yeah, about that," Billy drawled, a hard edge creeping into his voice. 

"Look, man. It was a fucking accident." 

"Really? Huh…" He licked his lips. "Didn't seem like it."

Steve groaned. Yeah, sure, he may have liked it, but he sure as shit wasn't ballsy enough to do it on purpose. "What do you want from me, Hargrove? An apology?" 

Billy shook his head and the grin that spread across his face was devilish. " **Either you can fight me or you can fuck me,"** he purred. **"Or both… I'll accept both."**

Steve was pretty sure he died right then. "You wanna… What??" His hand dropped down toward his dick instinctually. "Here? Now?!" 

Billy's smile grew wilder. "That wasn't a no..."

No. No it was not.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:
> 
> 57) "Where are your clothes?!" 
> 
> 59) "I thought this was a booty call." "Not even close."

Steve was sure he was going to pull all of his hair out before he finished this damn assignment. He wanted to throw in the towel, call it a night, just fucking go to bed already. He glanced at the clock and groaned. 9:47. Oh God. How was he supposed to finish the rest of this god forsaken packet by second period tomorrow? He could ask Nancy for help. No… She would be sleeping. That band nerd who's always staring at him? Robin? She seemed nice. Smart. A little weird, maybe. No, he wasn't going to talk to her for like the third time ever at 9:47 on a Wednesday night to ask for help on an assignment. Oh, right. He didn't even have her number anyway. So that left… 

"Billy?" Steve said into the phone a few minutes later. He already wanted to hang up. Billy had offered to help Steve with homework a few times before, among other things, but Steve had politely told him he'd rather be eaten by a shark, which wasn't, strictly speaking, true. 

"Harrington," Billy drawled. Steve could hear the smoke curling between his smirk on the other end of the line. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" The way he spoke the last word did something to Steve. His brain short circuited. 

"You win. I need you."

"Damn, pretty boy. Never thought I'd hear those words. My place or yours?" 

"Mine," Steve said. "Now." 

Steve tried to keep working while he waited for Billy. Tried to sit there patiently. Tried to sit there impatiently. Tried to stand there impatiently. It was almost 10:00 and there was still so much of the packet he had to finish. 

Steve hopped in the shower, turning the heat as high as his body could stand. The hot water ran in rivulets over his tense muscles, slowly working the stress out of them. He took a deep breath, relaxed, exhaled. Took another deep breath. He'd be fine. Billy would save his ass and he'd be fine. He wasn't going to fail the class. He wasn't. Steve turned off the shower and stepped out just in time to hear Billy calling from downstairs. 

"Hang on!" Steve yelled, toweling himself dry. "I'm just getting out of the shower." 

Steve took his time. He pulled his clothes on, half-assedly styled his hair enough so it wouldn't look like a cloud floating on his head, and stepped out of the bathroom. 

He called for Billy to join him upstairs, but as soon as Steve stepped into his room, he realized that hadn't been necessary. Billy was already in his room. Sprawled across his bed. Naked. Completely naked. 

Steve's gaze trickled down Billy's body slowly, finally landing between his legs. "Where are your clothes?" Steve barely managed to choke out. 

Billy's smile was slow and languid. "You sounded desperate, so… Figured I'd do you a favor and skip to the good stuff." 

Steve didn't just stare. He stared, jaw hanging open, thoughts tumbling right on out before he could catch them. 

"What… What do you think I called you for?" 

Billy's brow furrowed and he propped himself up on an elbow. "What do you mean? I thought this was a booty call." 

"Excuse me?!" Steve all but screamed. "No. No! Not even close!" 

Something that looked a lot like hurt flashed across Billy's face, but it was gone in an instant. He sat up fully. "Then what, Harrington, did you call me over here for at ten o'clock at night?" 

Steve pointed lamely at his homework. "I- Just- It's due tomorrow morning. And Nance is sleeping." 

Billy shrugged and grabbed Steve's textbook before laying back down, covering himself with the book. "Let's get started, then." 

"Uh… Can you, maybe, I don't know, put some pants on?!" Steve asked in horror. 

"No can do, amigo."

"And why not?!" Steve was nearly in tears at this point, still staring helplessly at the same spot, though now there was just a textbook there. He was in way over his head. Sure, he liked where this was going, but he was not ready. 

Billy shrugged again and smirked at Steve. Steve's eyes finally flicked up, meeting Billy's. Steve shook his head vigorously, his hair falling down in his eyes. 

"I'm not doing my homework like that." Steve looked back down at the textbook in Billy's lap and swallowed hard. 

Billy's smile grew. "Never said you had to take your pants off, too." He set the book back down on Steve's bed. "Not that I'd complain if you did…"

Steve was going to have to stay up late if he wanted to get any work done at all. 


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> 13) "Does it hurt?"

"Does it hurt?" Billy asked with a small, sad smile. 

It had somehow kind of become their thing. When Billy first came to Scoops and asked for a sundae _with a cherry on top_ , they had agreed it would be best for both of them if they kept their feelings out of it, kept their relationship strictly about sex. At the time it had seemed like a great idea. But it was hard. Too hard. And they were too stubborn to admit they'd messed up, broken their cardinal rule. So they developed codes, ways to lie to themselves while still getting what they needed. _Does it hurt?_ was the biggest one. 

It was _are you okay?_ and _let me help_ and _I'm worried about you_ wrapped into an easy yes or no question. And when it started, it didn't have any other meaning, any hidden layers between the words. Like when Steve bruised his knee on the stupid counter at work, Billy just wanted to know if he was okay because it looked like it hurt. Or when Billy had gouged a deep cut into his arm working on the Camaro, Steve wanted to make sure Billy knew it was there, because the psycho acted like his bloody arm didn't even phase him. 

But then Nancy and Jonathan came to Scoops together, stood in line a couple people in front of Billy, ordered their cones, and left arm-in-arm. And when Billy got to the counter, he could see something different in Steve's face. So he had asked if it hurt, seeing them together. Steve had nodded, just once, because the wound was mostly healed, but if something tugged at it when he wasn't expecting it… Yeah, it still hurt. 

Then there came a day when Billy seemed off. After sex he had just laid there, staring at the ceiling. Billy usually talked. _A lot_. But that day… He was too quiet. Steve had found out from Max later that it had been Billy's birthday. That he had waited by the phone most of the day, when Steve wasn't there. That he had been hoping it would finally be the day his mom would call again. The next time Steve saw him, he had asked Billy if it hurt, the whole thing with his mom. He had nodded, just once, because any more would have been too hard. 

And now, well… 

"Does what hurt?" Steve asked. He wasn't actually unsure about what Billy was asking. He just wanted to buy some time. Because he wasn't ready for this conversation. Because he was afraid how it would end. Because he wasn't ready to give up Billy. 

"Being in love." 

Steve sighed, looking down and nuzzling further into Billy's bare stomach. Billy squeezed him with his thighs, waiting for an answer. Steve wanted more time. 

"Sometimes," he whispered. "When it ends. Or when they don't love you back."

"Then why do you look so sad?" Billy asked, running his fingers through Steve's hair. 

Steve looked up, propping his chin on Billy's sunkissed abs, and frowned. "What do you mean?" 

"Well, I don't want it to end. And…" He looked down at Steve nestled between his legs, hair mussed and that cute little wrinkle he gets when he's confused creasing his brow. "It's not one-sided, Harrington. At least, not on my part." Billy bit his lip. In his mind, he had basically just screamed _I love you_ directly into Steve's face. And he was terrified. Terrified he had read everything all wrong.

A smile twitched at the corner of Steve's mouth. "What are you saying, Hargrove?" 

Billy rolled his eyes and sat up, forcing Steve to do the same. It was okay. Steve could wait. Because he _knew._ He had been expecting Billy to scold him for breaking their rule, had expected Billy to tell him to get his shit together or it was over. But Billy had broken their rule, too. And now Steve _knew_. 

_Does it hurt?_ It was still their thing, but the more it was asked, the more the answer became _no_.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:
> 
> 37) Set up on a blind date
> 
> 56) "I don't know if I should be flattered or offended."
> 
> With Steve holding a potato the whole time.

Steve sat in the corner booth of the little diner, knees tucked up to his chest, looking like a lost puppy. He stared vacantly out the window, wondering why he had let Robin whisk him away from his perfectly good apartment. He should have said no and kept cooking dinner. He sighed and wiped away the fog accumulating on the window. He was pretty sure he had been stood up by his blind date.

Autumn was dying, making way for winter. The air was finally getting a bite to it, learning how to settle into one's bones. Steve pulled the neck of his fuzzy sweater up around his ears with one hand. If he left now, he could make it home before night fell. He could finish cooking his little dinner. He could curl up with a blanket and watch a cute movie.

"Harrington? You have got to be kidding me."

Steve closed his eyes. He didn't need to look up to know who that voice belonged to. He'd had countless dreams over the past few years filled with that voice. Sometimes nightmares. Sometimes wet dreams.

Billy slid into the booth across from Steve with a grunt. "Tell Buckley I'm gonna kill her."

Steve finally looked over at Billy. He looked… _Nice_. "Why?" he croaked.

Billy scoffed. "Setting me up on a blind date with _King Steve._ "

Steve sat up, resting his arms on the counter. "I thought this was Heather's idea."

Billy shrugged. "I'll kill them both then. Did you know about this?" He squinted at Steve for a moment before a motion caught his attention. Steve was fiddling with something. "Is that a fucking potato? You brought a _potato_ to our date?"

"Sweet," Steve mumbled.

"Excuse me?"

"It's a sweet potato," he said, holding it up, then looking at it like he had never seen it before in his life. "I was in the middle of cooking and Robin just grabbed me and ran. Said we were gonna be late. You know I was sitting here for almost an hour?"

Billy smiled and shook his head. The window next to him was starting to fog over. Steve watched it creep toward him, debating. He could still leave. He didn't owe Billy anything.

But he stayed, and they ordered their food. Billy got the greasiest trash burger on the menu. It looked like it had literally been thrown together and punted onto his plate.

" _That_ ," Steve said, pointing at Billy's food with his fork, "looks disgusting. Why is it so soggy? Is that an egg?"

Billy scowled. "Eat your fucking grass and shut up."

Steve rolled his eyes and pecked away at his salad. He too was starting to consider killing Robin, for forcing him into this disaster. They ate mostly in silence, Billy making a huge mess with his nightmare burger, Steve still holding his sweet potato. Just a little longer and Steve could bolt, never to speak of this again.

When they had finally finished and their plates were cleared, Billy propped his elbows on the counter and leaned forward, picking at the sleeve of Steve's sweater. "The fuck is this?"

"Clothing. I see you don't understand how it works." He gestured at Billy's bare chest peeking out of his open shirt. There was no way he wasn't freezing.

Billy rolled his eyes and smirked. "You look like you're wearing a fucking cat."

Steve looked down and frowned. He thought he looked pretty nice. "It's wool. And at least I don't go around showing off how hard my nipples get when I step outside because I don't know _how a shirt works._ "

Billy's eyebrows shot up and he pulled his shirt to the side, showing off his pec. "You been staring at my nipples, pretty boy?"

Well no, he hadn't, but he was now. "We're in public. Put your tits away," Steve mumbled.

There was the flick of Billy's tongue across his teeth, then his signature smirk. "I'll put my tits away if you put that goddamn potato away."

Steve clutched it to his chest. "I'll have you know… This _sweet_ potato is very important to me. It gives me hope that one day I'll escape this dumpster fire you call a date, and get back to my _life_."

Billy put his hand over his heart and feigned offense. "I'm hurt, Harrington. And here I thought you were starting to fall for me."

Steve snorted, which earned him a grin from Billy. It was warm, different from the predatory grin he usually flashed around. It was the kind of grin he'd only ever seen Billy wear in his dreams. It looked good on him.

"Your face looks a lot better with that smile." He hadn't meant to say it out loud. He didn't even realize he had until Billy laughed.

" **I don't know if I should be flattered or offended**." The smile was still there, and it was somehow brighter, leaking gold now. It dazzled Steve.

He leaned back, a smile growing on his own face, and drew in the fog on the window. Billy watched him, face twisted in either disgust or confusion.

"What the fuck is that?" Billy asked when Steve was finally done.

"Me wearing a cat. Obviously."

"And what's that?" Billy asked, pointing to the other half of Steve's drawing.

"Your very hard nipples."

There was that blinding smile again, then the deepest, most glorious laugh Steve had ever heard. His dreams would never do it justice. "Good god. You're an idiot, you know that?" Steve simply smiled back. "Hey, what d'ya say we blow this popsicle stand?"

Steve scooted out of the booth, shrinking into what he would forever call his cat sweater. Billy dropped a few bills on the counter. His hand discretely found the small of Steve's back and they made their way for the door.

"Hey, where's your potato?"

"Don't need it."

"Ah," Billy said, opening the door for Steve. The icy air knocked the breath from Steve's lungs. "Given up all hope on escaping this dumpster fire I've been calling a date?"

Steve pressed himself against Billy's side, trying to shield himself from the wind. Who was he kidding? Steve pressed himself against Billy's side because he wanted to. "Something like that, yeah."


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:
> 
> 13) "Does it hurt?" 
> 
> 34) Monster hunting

The night sky was like glittering velvet, stretching out over the quarry in a beautiful veil. Billy leaned back on the Camaro’s hood and let a trail of smoke slip between his lips as he smiled. It felt good, the fresh air, the cool breeze, Steve’s gaze on him. Billy didn’t want the night to end, didn’t want to go back to his house on Cherry Lane, didn’t want to resume his disappointment of a life.

“Can we stay? Just a bit longer?” he asked.

Steve smiled, like he could read Billy’s thoughts in the way he spoke. And maybe he could. “Yeah. Just a bit.”

Steve moved a little closer, pressed his thigh against Billy’s and let his fingers brush Billy’s hand before resting on the car. Everything was still fresh, tender. Everything felt heavier, like there was more hanging on each word, each touch. And maybe there was. They didn’t speak, just took in the star-specked sky, the dark spread of forest around them, the heavens reflecting in the water below.

Something stirred in the trees behind them. Steve glanced back warily, but saw nothing. He turned back to Billy, snuggling against him and humming. It was nice. It was perfect. But then the rustling came again, this time much closer, much louder.

"Babe, I think we should go," Steve said quietly. "Like, now."

Billy sighed but slid off the Camaro all the same."I hate this," he muttered. "I want to actually be able to spend time with you. I want-" 

An odd noise emanated from the woods and it was apparent from the look on Steve's face that he had heard it before. Without a word he dashed to his car and popped open the trunk. Within seconds he was slamming in shut again, a nail-studded bat in hand. 

"Please tell me you have something in your car that can be used as a weapon!" 

Billy stared at him. "What?" 

Steve growled in frustration and ripped Billy's keys from his pants pocket. The only thing of use in Billy's trunk was a tire iron. That would have to be good enough. He pulled it out and shoved into Billy’s chest, saying “You’re gonna need this.”

Billy stared at his boyfriend. Could he call Steve that? Is that what- But something was charging out of the forest, cutting right through Billy’s train of thought. It was big and hideous and Billy wasted no time charging forward and swinging the tire iron right at the creature’s face. He then proceeded to bash the absolute shit out of it. 

“What the fuck?” he yelled at Steve, who was staring back at him in surprise, in _awe_. "The fuck did I just kill, Steve? Good god…" Billy bent down and tentatively lifted one of the petals that made up the creatures face. "What the fuck? Look at all these teeth! Steve? Steve!" 

But Steve was busy, swinging his nail-bat at another flower-faced dog from Hell. "Watch out!" he screamed at Billy, who had just started running toward him. But it was too late. 

A grotesque body leapt through the air, tackling the blonde to the ground. Billy let out a sickening grunt, then a painful yell. Steve didn't wait to hear anything else. He was on top of the creature in seconds, trying to pry it off Billy. 

It kept swiping over Billy with its innumerable rows of teeth, slicing through his skin like it was _nothing_. Billy growled, picking up his discarded weapon, and shoving it down the thing's throat. It let out an ear-splitting screech and crumpled. Steve rolled the carcass off Billy and helped the guy to his feet. They stood there, listening, but no other noises came. 

"What. The. Fuck." Billy groaned and went back to lean on the Camaro again. 

"Does it hurt?" Steve asked, gesturing at Billy's entire body.

Billy laughed. "Right now? No, not really. In five minutes? Yeah, gonna hurt like a fucking bitch." He sighed, long and slow. “You know what thing was, don’t you?”

Steve nodded, almost guiltily. “It’s a demo-thingy. I don’t know, Dustin came up with a stupid name for it."

“Max’s friend? Are you telling me _Max_ knows? My _little sister_ knows? But you didn’t tell _me?”_ Steve smiled, despite the guilt coiling in his gut. “What? You think this is funny?”

“No,” Steve said quietly, looking up into Billy’s ocean eyes. “You called Max your little sister. It’s always ‘ _step_ -sister’ or ‘shitbird’ or ‘Maxine.’” He smiled again and Billy’s cheeks turned several shades of pink.

“You tell her that and you’re dead, Harrington.” Steve smiled and planted a warm, delicate kiss on Billy’s lips. Billy smirked. “I should threaten you more often…”

The degree to which Steve rolled his eyes was impressive. “Do you want me to tell you about this shit or not?”

“Only if I get more kisses like that when you’re done.”

"Sure, but after I get you to a hospital."


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:
> 
> 11) "You seriously call that a kiss?" 
> 
> 41) Spin the bottle at a party

Steve didn't even know whose house he was at, just knew he was on the outskirts of Loch Nora. It was midnight and he had a comfortable buzz from whatever the Hell kind of concoction was in his cup. He was making his way to the living room when someone bumped into him, spilling both Steve's drink and their own all over themselves. 

"Well shit, Harrington," Billy said with a brilliant, drunken smile. "If you wanted me out of my clothes, all you had to do was ask."

"What are- No. For the love of God, just… Jesus," Steve rambled in exasperation as he watched Billy take his shirt off. 

"What? It was covered in beer."

"Dear God, please tell me you're not taking your pants off, too." 

Billy grinned and slapped Steve on the back. "As much as I'd _love_ to indulge you…" Billy looked down at himself and chuckled. He looked back at Steve, whispering and over-annunciating every word, "Nothin' under these pants, pretty boy."

"Wow. That's gross."

Billy grinned again and licked his lips. "You like it." And with that, he turned and disappeared into the crowd. 

It'd been going like that for some months now -- Billy constantly making remarks that were a little too sexual, remarks that Steve kept telling himself he didn't enjoy, didn't wait for. Billy _knew_. He had to. 

As the party thundered on into the night and those attending grew more and more intoxicated, party games sprung to life throughout the house. There was a very serious game of beer pong in the garage that sounded like it was growing a little too heated. A huge group of people had just started up flippy cup in the kitchen, including Nancy and Jonathan. Nancy had never joined Steve when he wanted to play some party games. But Steve didn't have time to dwell because, to his utter horror, Carol was plopping a bottle down on the coffee table in front of him and calling everyone to join in a game of spin the bottle. 

"Isn't this like a kiddy game?" Steve groaned. 

"Shut up, Harrington. It'll be fun." Billy had just sat down across from him, legs spread wide, chest glistening with either sweat or more beer, and tongue running over his teeth. 

" _You're_ playing? I'm out." 

"Aww," Billy cooed. "Scared, pretty boy?" 

Steve scoffed. "Scared? Of a middle schooler game? Right." He spread his hands. "Fine, let's do it."

"Ooo, King Steve, finally growing some balls," Carol said with a smirk. 

Tammy Thompson was the first to go. Steve caught the eye of a vaguely familiar girl sitting near Billy. Steve couldn't remember her name, exactly, just that it was a naturey sort of name. There was a strange sort of excitement in her eyes. Steve understood that look. He'd looked at Billy like that many times. It was a hopeful, guarded look. The glow on her face fizzled out when the bottle didn't land on her, and suddenly Steve understood something about this vaguely familiar girl. She was like him, at least partially. 

There were a few times when the bottle landed on someone of the same sex and the person who spun it would insist it was pointing to that person next to them. No one ever questioned it, not really. But then it was Steve's turn. 

He spun the bottle, grumbling the whole time, and balked when it landed on Billy. A sly, predatory grin crept across Billy's face. He had been hoping for this. 

"What, you too chicken shit, Harrington? C'mon, pretty boy. Let's see what you got." 

Heat rushed across Steve's face and he half shook his head. The crowd booed and jeered, egging Steve on, calling him out for being scared. 

Steve dove across the coffee table separating him from Billy, and his lips crashed so hard against the other boy's it hurt. Billy's lips were soft and the hairs of his mustache pricked at Steve's lip. One heartbeat. That was all the longer Steve waited before pulling away. His heart ached, begged him to stay longer, to hold onto that kiss for as long as Billy would let him. But he couldn't.

There was a lot of ruckus as Steve sat back down. Billy was laughing, like it was the most hilarious thing he'd ever experienced in his life. The crowd was whooping and cheering. Some people were even accusing Steve of enjoying it. Which he had, but that wasn't the point. 

Steve waited a few more spins before claiming his drink was empty and he needed to refill. What he really needed was some fresh air. Steve slipped out the front door and walked along the side of the house, where a low hanging tree obscured the view. He leaned against the trunk and closed his eyes. 

Months of this cat and mouse game had come to this. He felt a little giddy, a little sick. He was so lost in his head that he didn't hear the soft footsteps behind him. 

"You seriously call that a kiss?" 

Steve whipped around to see Billy standing there, a thumb hooked in his belt and a sly smirk on his face. "Excuse me?" 

"That kiss," Billy purred. "I know you can do better than that." He didn't wait for Steve to reply, just stepped forward and pinned him gently against the tree. Here it was, the thing they had been building up to for months. A real kiss, one just for them. "You wanna try again?" 

And so they did, under the heavy canopy of the tree. They kissed until their lips were sore and their skin was icy cold. They kissed until there was no doubt in either of their minds that this was absolutely what they wanted.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:
> 
> 21) "Is this really your idea of fun?"
> 
> 27) "Why are you in my bed?"

"Yeah, come in. I was just finishing the dishes."

Steve stepped to the side and let Billy in. The blonde was wearing a mostly unbuttoned shirt and a smug smirk that made Steve feel a little tight in the pants.

"Playing house, princess?" Billy purred.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Shut up. You wanna get set up? I'll just be another minute. Um… Dining table is that way," Steve added, pointing down the hall.

"Sure thing." Billy adjusted the strap over his shoulder and headed off down the hall.

Steve sighed and returned to the kitchen, where he finished scrubbing the dishes he'd used that week and set them in the rack to dry. His mind wandered as he worked, wandered down the hallway to the curly haired hunk preparing their school project in the dining room.

They'd been paired together for a presentation on something Steve had been way too preoccupied to pay attention to. He hoped Billy had gotten the assignment properly. If not, they were fucked and Steve would have to deal with another verbal lashing from his father.

He sighed and made his way down the hall. The dining room was empty, save for Billy's messenger bag set on the table. He looked around, peeked back out into the hallway, then stood there confused.

"Billy?" he called.

"Up here!"

Steve spun on his heel and bounded upstairs. "Why are you up here?" His bedroom light was on, but he couldn't hear any movement coming from there. He stepped into the room and stopped in his tracks. "Why are you in my bed?"

Billy grinned, sprawling out across the expanse of the mattress. "Big bed," he said, a smirk in his voice.

"Billy, we have to finish this project."

"Already done."

"What?!"

Billy shrugged. "I already did the research and wrote our speech. Just gotta present it now."

"That still doesn't explain what you're doing in my bed."

The grin on Billy's face was predatory and infectious. "You suck at giving presentations, man. Sure, you're very charismatic and that's great, but… You tense up and forget all your points and it's a fucking trainwreck. It's not pretty."

The smile that had started twitching at the corners of Steve's lips faltered. "I don't know if you're trying to compliment me or insult me, or both."

"Neither." Billy sighed, "Look, you just need to loosen up, have a little fun. Let's… Get to know each other, feel more comfortable together, so when you're up there and you feel nervous, you'll know I've got your back." Billy shot him a quick wink.

Steve wasn't sure he liked where this was going. Or rather, he very much liked where it was going, but didn't like how much he liked it. "Fine," he grumbled and flopped down next to Billy's legs. "Move your fat ass. You're taking up the whole bed."

Billy chuckled and ducked under the blanket, sitting up and draping it over himself.

"Uh… whatcha doin there, big guy?" Steve asked.

"Just get under here, Harrington."

Steve sighed heavily, like being stuck with Billy in any sort of confined space was just the absolute worst thing that could happen to him. It wasn't. But Billy didn't need to know that, yet. Steve pulled the blanket over his head and sat in the quiet dark, so close to Billy it made him quake.

Neither of them spoke at first, just breathed in the same air, held the same pool of darkness in their gazes, and waited.

"It's my fault we had to leave Cali." Billy's words were so sudden and pained that it took Steve a moment to recover.

"What- Why are you telling me this? I thought we were supposed to be having fun under here."

"Shut up. We are." Steve tried to pull the blanket off of them, but Billy grabbed it in both hands and held on tight. "Knock it off, Harrington."

Steve let go. "Is this really your idea of fun? Sitting under this stuffy blanket, breathing on each other's faces, and… what? Spill our darkest secrets?"

Billy burst out laughing. "You think us having to leave Cali because I'm gay is my darkest secret? You're fucking cute, princess."

"You- What?!"

"I'm. Gay. Steve."

Steve's mind ground to a halt. He had _hoped_. He had even almost _suspected_. But he never honestly thought…

"Well… I mean…. Yeah."

Billy was unexpectedly quiet. When his voice came again, it was like waves out of the darkness, washing over Steve. He felt like he was floating. He felt like he was drowning. "You really _do_ understand, don't you, pretty boy?" Billy's words were knowing. They edged around something in Steve's mind he hadn't openly admitted to himself. Sure, he'd had some scandalous daydreams about Billy, but he hadn't allowed himself to think the word 'gay' yet. If that was even what Steve was. But Billy knew. He could tell. And it was _okay_.

"I mean… Yeah," Steve breathed.

The bed shifted. The dark swimming before Steve's face grew hot and close. Billy's lips, warm and soft, pressed ever so gently against Steve's. They lingered, trembling, before pulling away. The darkness cooled. The bed shifted. But the blanket stayed.

"How is this supposed to help with the presentation? Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining or anything, I just-"

"You ever shut that pretty mouth, Harrington?" Billy chuckled. "Relax. I'm just getting started."


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:
> 
> Or how about "dust and sunshine"?

A soft wind danced in through the open window, setting the curtains to billow gently. The late summer sun was just grazing the distant horizon and the sky was all violent pastels and neons, tangerine and grapefruit, bleeding into the calm velvety blue of what had once been night. The soft hush of waves hung on the breeze, curled up next to the tang of seasalt. 

Billy lay awake, a head of chestnut hair nuzzled into his chest, and stared out at the sky. He could taste dust beneath all the sea spray. Dust and faded Polaroids. Memories that had been slowly eroded by the ocean's tide. Memories he'd tossed off the end of the pier and watched be carried away into depths from which he hoped they would never resurface. 

Time had waited for him to return. And it wasn't just that he'd come back to California. It was that he had come back with Steve, come back with scars, come back with a heart so full of love and loss and regret, come back to this little bungalow he had stayed in once. 

Once. 

When he had still felt some semblance of love, before he had caved in entirely. Buried beneath a life he never wanted. Asphyxiated under the burden of himself. Before Steve had unearthed him with bruised and tender fingers, mended his crumbled foundation, reminded him what love felt like. 

Time had waited for him, a decade passing untouched. The boy he had been then still smiled somewhere in a lost photograph. He wondered, vaguely, if his mother still had it, or if she had discarded every memory she had of him the day she left. There had once been a deep ache when he thought of her, a thunderous crash of waves against his ribs, but it was calm now. It had started growing quiter since that fateful Halloween party. Since Steve. 

The curtains billowed again, kicking up motes of dust that glinted in the sunlight. Steve stirred, blinking up at Billy with eyes forged of ichor and the dark, rich soil from which life thrived. Everything else fell away. 


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts:
> 
> 3) "I fucking hate you." "Please don't say that."
> 
> 28) "Okay, just because I said I loved you one time does not mean we're a thing."

Being with Billy was hard. Steve knew it would be, but he thought that eventually Billy would actually admit they were together. They'd spent the last three months fucking every chance they got and each time he looked into Billy's eyes, each time he felt Billy's rough hands on his skin, he fell a little in love with the boy.

It was even reciprocated, at least Steve thought so. Billy had said it once, a little buzzed and a little high after cumming, but he had said it. With dawn creeping in on them and Billy's breath still dripping with moans, he had told Steve he loved him. It was all heat and whiskey and cum, and it was Billy's love. So who could blame Steve for thinking it made them a couple?

But the thing about Billy was that he was terrified. He hid it behind his loud music and nasty attitude, but deep down, Billy Hargrove was just a scared little boy.

And sometimes scared little boys lash out. They lash out bad.

Steve fucked up. He was willing to admit that. He didn't ask for Billy's permission and maybe that's why the guy was so pissed off, but…

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Harrington?" Billy snarled, shoving Steve backward. He hadn't called Steve by his last name since the first time they had sex. He didn't like it. It felt like Billy was throwing away everything they had.

"Babe, I'm sorry. I get that I overstepped. I do. I'm sorry. I just…"

"You just what? You thought it was okay to tell your little friends we were together?"

Steve grasped at the sleeve of Billy's jean jacket. "They _knew_ , Billy. I just… Confirmed it."

Billy let out a harsh laugh and it pierced right through Steve's ribcage. "I don't trust your friends, Harrington."

" _I do_. That should be enough, shouldn't it?"

"You know what happened last time I trusted someone's friends? I ended up in this shit hole."

Steve balked. "Billy they're not gonna get you driven out of town. They won't tell anyone. They've kept bigger secrets than this. You'll be fine. It's really not that big a deal."

Billy bristled and Steve instantly knew he'd said the absolute wrong thing. His heart plummeted and no matter how desperately he grasped at the thoughts racing through his mind, he couldn't find anything to say to sooth what he'd just thrown at Billy.

"So I guess it's not a big deal if we never see each other again. Guess it's not a big deal if my dad sends me off to some fucking camp to _fix me._ Or if he tries to fix me himself."

"Billy… You know that's not what I meant. Of course it's a big deal. You're my boyfriend. We're in love…"

"Okay, just because I said I loved you one time does not mean we're a thing. I was drunk."

That stung a lot more than Steve wanted to admit. Billy hadn't said he didn't love him, but he'd implied it. And even though Steve knew it was just Billy lashing out, it hurt. It hurt so fucking much.

"Don't be a fucking asshole." Steve was biting back tears.

Billy snarled. "Excuse me? I think it's about time you fucking left."

Steve was hurt and angry and the words tumbled from him before he could catch them. "So your dad's a dick. So what? You don't get to throw me out like trash just because you're a scared little pussy." He hadn't known then, about Billy's dad. Hadn't known how many times that word had been thrown in his face.

"I fucking hate you." There were tears in Billy's eyes.

Steve was so shocked, his voice barely came out as a whisper. "Please don't say that."

They didn't speak for weeks. Steve could feel a storm building inside of Billy. He could feel the static electricity, the wind, could taste the tang in the air. Billy was about to snap. Steve wanted to hold him, shelter him until it all blew over, but every time he began to reach out, he heard Billy's voice in his head. _I fucking hate you_. So he let the storm rage on.

But then Billy showed up at Steve's house one night, looking like something dead that had washed ashore after a hurricane. The storm must have peaked and he was now looking at the aftermath.

"Is Max okay?" Steve was worried she been the focus of Billy's rage.

Billy looked up, brow furrowed, then realization dawned on him. "Yeah. C'mon, you know I'd never hurt her."

"Never thought you'd hurt me either."

They stood there in the doorway for a long time, hearts filled with regrets. Finally, Steve took a step back and gestured for Billy to come inside. He stepped in and put a hand on Steve's cheek, ocean eyes glancing up hesitantly.

"I do love you. I love you more than anything. And I was so scared of losing you, I…" His voice broke.

"Me too," Steve whispered. "I was scared and I said some stupid shit. And I know you don't want to be a thing, but- I just- I can't just not be with you. It hurts. It hurts so fucking much."

Billy dropped his hand to Steve's waist, wrapping both arms around him and burying his face in Steve's neck. "I know. And… We can be... If you still want. Together, I mean." Steve did want that, more than anything. "Look," Billy said, "there's something you need to understand though…"

They spent hours talking about their fathers, their fears, everything they wanted from each other. They whittled away the night crying and kissing, their love dripping from their lips like ichor. They made love for the first time, slow and sweet and achingly beautiful. And when the sun finally clawed its way over the horizon, they found the world a little less daunting, a little more bearable, a little more worth fighting for.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HfBLM

The beat thrummed in Steve's bones, lit his blood on fire, eased the weight in his chest. For one night he could just be free. He could just be another face in the crowd. The band on stage wasn't one Steve had listened to before, but it didn't matter. The air was electric from the sheer passion pouring out of them and Steve was devouring it. But he was also very thirsty and hot, and if he wanted to be in any shape to enjoy Twenty One Pilots, he needed something to drink. 

Steve shoved his way toward the bar, knocking into two girls who seemed far more interested in each other than they did the concert. One of them glanced up and she looked incredibly familiar. Did Steve have a class with her? But his attention was drawn away when his eyes caught sight of a familiar mane of blonde curls.

Steve opened his mouth to call out to him, but the guy ducked away and disappeared into the crowd. Whatever. Steve stepped up to the bar and bought a wildly overpriced bottle of water. He had brought _more_ than enough money with him, but charging four bucks for _water_ was insane. He was going to sip that water like it was some kind of fine wine. Like a… well, Steve didn't really know. He'd never paid much attention to the wines his parents broke out for dinners. 

Steve slinked back into the crowd, sipping on his fine bottled water. He made his way, half absent-mindedly, half intentionally, in the general direction the cute blonde had gone. A grin began to carve its way delicately across Steve's face. If that guy really had been _him_ … Oh man. He pushed through masses of bodies. Dancing bodies. Sweaty bodies. But none of them were the body he wanted. No, wait, that's… That's not what Steve had meant to think. He meant… It was just- Billy. 

There he was, that telltale halo of curly hair, that cute scowl. Billy's eyes caught Steve's, all glittering ocean. They went wide before he ducked away and disappeared into the crowd again. Steve called after him and pushed his way toward where Billy had disappeared. Ahead, there was someone throwing open a side door and storming out into the cool night. 

Steve stepped out, standing there to watch as Billy tucked a cigarette into the corner of his mouth. There was a rasp and a burst of flame as he lit the tip, the fire casting his face in golden light. The cherry burned bright as Billy inhaled, and Steve meandered over to him. 

"Got an extra?" 

Billy looked up and groaned, his eyed fluttering shut. He sighed and held out his pack. "Thought you quit."

Steve took a cigarette from the pack, shrugging. "Only kind of. For Nancy." He slipped the cig into his mouth and waited for Billy to light it. "Wasn't very good at it."

A plume of smoke trickled tantalizingly from Billy's lips as he chuckled. "Yeah, not surprised."

Steve scoffed. "The fuck's that supposed to mean?" Billy shook his head and light glinted off the dangly spike earring looped through the tunnel in his ear. Steve wanted to touch it, play with it. He always wanted to touch Billy. 

"You have a…" Billy gestured at his mouth. Steve didn't respond, just stared at his lips, like they were the only thing that mattered. "...an oral fixation." Steve snorted and started coughing. "What? You do. You're always chewing on pencils during class, or your fork during lunch-" 

"You been watching me, Hargrove?" Steve gave him a wide grin. There was a beat where Steve thought he might say _yes_ , felt the word snag on the air.

"God, no." But Billy's cheeks flushed a little pink and he looked down at the cigarette between his fingers. "I just notice things, is all. Besides, _you're_ the one who's been following me around all night."

"First of all, it was for, like, five minutes. Tops. And what the Hell are you doing here anyway?" Steve looked around "Not really your scene. Not enough tattoos. Or holes." He flicked Billy's earring. 

Billy rolled his eyes. "Max dragged me along."

Steve snorted again. If Steve hadn't known better, he'd might have believed him. "Sure she did. That's why she pretended to puke on me when I offered to bring her with."

"I… Lost a bet." Billy let it fall like he had lost interest in the lie halfway through. 

"Mhm, sure." Steve nudged Billy with his elbow and smiled. The blonde looked at him warily. "It's alright. I won't tell anyone I saw you here. Secret's safe with me…"

A small smile broke out across Billy's face before blooming into a chuckle. "Good. Otherwise I'd have to kick your ass."

Steve's eyes were wide when he turned to Billy "Yeah… no thanks…" There were many things Steve wanted from Billy, but an ass-kicking, as far as he knew, was not one of them. 

They stayed out there for a while, their cigarettes burning down to the filters, their lungs taking in the starry night, their eyes devouring one another, memorizing every tilt of the other's head, every twitch of his lips. They stayed until the music inside lulled, signaling the last band's set was over and the headliners would be setting up soon. Half of Steve wanted to go back inside and watch the band he had come there to see. The other half just wanted to stare at Billy for the rest of the night. 

"Can I have a sip of your water?" Billy asked. Steve was a little surprised, but at the same time, he'd seen the guy do plenty of surprising things in the few months he'd known him.

"Sure." He handed over the bottle. "Keep it."

They stayed a couple minutes longer, Billy sipping from Steve's water, smirking and speaking in a hushed tone that made Steve's knees weak, their eyes locked on one another. Neither of them actually suggested heading back in. Billy simply slinked his arm around Steve's shoulders, halfway through a joke he was telling, and guided Steve inside. The air inside the venue was absolutely vibrating with anticipation, and the two boys looked at each other, grinning excitedly. 

Billy grabbed Steve's hand and swiftly began pushing his way toward the stage, dragging a shocked Steve behind him. The boy half apologized the whole way there for all of Billy's nudging and shoving, but couldn't help the building excitement when they grew closer and closer to the stage. At last, they reached the barricade at the front and Billy maneuvered Steve up against the railing, placing a hand on either side of him and pinning him to the rail. For as much as Billy oozed sexual energy, the gesture felt more protective than anything, and when Steve looked back at him, he saw Billy's body jerk forward as he buffered the crowd. Steve turned back to the stage and smiled to himself, waiting for the band to start their set. 

The _moment_ the two stepped onto the stage, the entire atmosphere exploded. Steve's ears rang and he looked back to see a huge grin plastered across Billy's face. It looked so good on him, so much better than his signature scowl. Steve tugged gently on Billy's earring and the blonde looked down, smile somehow growing even wider. 

Billy said something, and though Steve couldn't hear him, he watched Billy's lips form the words _pretty boy._ And that was it. Steve was lost for him. 


End file.
